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THE RETURN OF 
ODYSSEUS 



A GREEK CHORIC PLAY 

IN TWO CONTINUOUS ACTS SEPARATED BY 

AN INTERLUDE OF VISIONS 



By MARION MILLS MILLER 

Litt. D. (Princeton) 

Editor of "The Classics— Greek and Latin"; Translator of 
"The Sicilian Idyls of Theocritus," etc. 




THE STRATFORD COMPANY : BOSTON 
1917 






Copyright 1917 by THE STRATFORD COMPANY 



Dramatic rights reserved by the author 

MARION MILLS MILLER 

Carnegie Hall, New York, N. Y. 



AUG 14 1917 
©CI. A4 7 0664 



Preface 

THIS play, while suited to the stage of the regular 
theater, is especially intended for performance 
in the open air, particularly within the stadia of our 
universities. 

All but two of the speaking characters being 
women, it is peculiarly adapted to the requirements of 
women's schools and colleges. 

Unlike the plots of the original Greek dramas, the 
story of the play is familiar to all persons possessing 
a good education in English alone, and the passions 
depicted, patriotism and comradeship, and love in all 
its natural aspects — between husband and wife, 
parent and child, mistress and maid, as well as be- 
tween man and woman — appeal no less to the modern 
than to the ancient mind. Motives such as incest and 
matricide, which were favorites with the Greek popu- 
lace, but which are abhorrent to people of the present 
day, are entirely omitted, and the doctrines of the 
hybris, pride, and of nemesis, its punishment, while 
these have been introduced as the essential religious 
elements of Greek drama, are paraphrased, as it were, 
so that the ancient theological aspect of the "sin" is 
obliterated in the universal ethical aspect. For 
dramatic as well as moral reasons this treatment may 
be justified. The purpose of the stage, says Shake- 
speare, is to show ' ' the very age and body of the time 
his form and pressure," not to galvanize an ancient 

[iii] 



iv THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

mummy to a mockery of life by a mechanical sub- 
stitute for a spirit which, happily for good art and 
good taste, as well as good morals, has forever fled. 

In fine, the present play is written not for archeo- 
logical scholars but for average Americans — people 
who do not pretend to like what is alien to their na- 
tures in order to acquire a reputation for academic 
culture, and who, if they are to catch any measure of 
the Greek spirit, must mark its rhythm by the pulse of 
the red blood bounding in their own veins. 

The play is open, from the scholar's standpoint, to 
the charge of anachronism, both constructive and 
specific, but this, it is maintained, is of form and fact 
rather than of spirit. Sappho, Theocritus, the Greek 
epigrammatists, and even the Latin Ovid, have been 
sources of phrase and legend, as well as Homer, 
although the action depicted is pre-Homeric. Even 
Homer himself is represented as a contemporary of 
Odysseus, the author's justification being the artistic 
if not the scholarly one that in "poetic justice" the 
blind bard ought to have come into personal contact 
with the heroes whom he depicted and whom he robbed 
of their proper laurels by ascribing their deeds to the 
gods. 

Feminism, the spirit of woman, is presented as a 
dramatic motive, with the justification that it was 
rampant in ancient Greece, as witness the comedy of 
Aristophanes called "The Ecclesiazusae," or "The 
Women in Congress," a play which in a modern 
presentation that would paraphrase its timely wit 
might be very properly denominated "The Suf- 
fragettes. ' ' 



PREFACE v 

In one lyric a modern invention (unless we recog- 
nize as its prototype the artificial wings of Daedalus), 
the aeroplane, is mentioned as a symbol of man's 
domination of the air, which was deemed in ancient 
times no less than in the present day a human right 
and ultimate achievement. 

In short, the essential purpose of The Return 
of Odysseus has been to portray those phases of 
ancient life and thought and spirit which are also 
modern, doing so without regard to any special classic 
era, and employing any means of representation 
which universally obtains in order that these subjects 
may be comprehended by the modern non-scholastic 
mind. 

Because of dramatic requirements certain liberties 
have been taken with the classic story which forms 
the plot of the play. For example, the slaughter of 
the suitors takes place in the Banquet Hall, and this 
did not permit of the preceding open-air scene de- 
scribed by Homer, where Odysseus wins the contest 
in archery. 

Wherever practicable, however, the narrative of 
Homer has been faithfully followed. To this end, 
with a few adaptations necessary to make artistic 
compositions, the descriptions of the "visions" of 
Penelope (the various adventures of Odysseus on his 
way home from Troy) are given in the words of the 
Odyssey as rendered in that best of all English 
translations, the version of Butcher and Lang, which, 
being in Biblical prose, imparts to the English ear 
that effect of sacred associations which the original 
possessed for the Homer-reverencing Greek. 



vi THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

The artistic spirit of the play proper is that of 
Aristophanes rather than of the Greek tragedians, 
especially in the employment of the chorus for 
spectacular and aesthetic effects. Nevertheless none 
of the Greek dramatic unities as observed by these 
tragedians is violated. The scene is the same through- 
out, and the action is continuous, taking place within 
less than the time of one day. The far more im- 
portant unities of the modern, or, better, the universal, 
stage, are also observed. The actors are persons who 
would naturally be present, and their exits and 
entrances are appropriately timed; the "properties" 
are few and simple and ready at hand, and the 
theatrical devices — visions, statue-poses, and cho- 
ruses — are far better suited to the occasion of their 
introduction than is usually the case in modern light 
opera, to which the play is aesthetically related. 

The "visions," while with a few exceptions they 
would be more artistically, though very incompletely, 
presented in the form of tableaus or ' ' living pictures, ' ' 
may also be shown by the cinematograph, and thus 
reduce the number of the cast. 

The play is frankly English in verse form, for the 
author, who has metrically translated several Greek 
poets, believes that any attempt to reproduce in a 
modern tongue the classic measures not only must fall 
far short of the original in artistic effect, but must 
also violate the principles of rhythm native to the 
languages of the present day. Thus to write 
"Sapphics" or Homeric hexameters in English, one 
must substitute for accent (the native, essential ele- 
ment of our prosody) the element of classic quantity, 



PREFACE vii 

which is worse than exotic, being utterly extinct and 
unrevivable as a practical metrical principle. The 
best that can be done in true English rhythmic transla- 
tion is to produce, not the identical aesthetic effect of 
the original Greek measures, but an equivalent effect. 
Thus Chapman, an English dramatist of the intensely 
dramatic Elizabethan age, translated Homer dramat- 
ically, even theatrically, for example, swelling the 
simple phrase, so thrilling to the reverential Greek, 
"When holy Troy shall fall," to "When holy Troy 
shall shed her towers for tears of overthrow" — a 
grandiose figure of speech perfectly suited to the 
boundless imagination of Chapman's time, and, in 
spite of its recognized incongruity, appealing with a 
measure of its former strength to the more controlled 
artistic sense of the present day. 

Now to impart a modern equivalent effect of Greek 
poetry the blank verse usually employed by English 
translators and imitators is, except in rare passages, 
singularly inadequate, since, while the Greeks wrote 
in what technically may be called blank verse, their 
lines throughout were rich in tone-color, or sound 
symbolism, which in the evolution of phonetic art has 
received in English poetry the culminating addition 
of end rime. Rimed verse, especially in choruses, gives 
a nearer equivalent than English blank verse for the 
lyric effect of the Greek original which is necessarily 
lost in translation and imitation. Swinburne's 
"Atalanta in Calydon," vibrant with sensuous 
symbolism of sound and idea, reproduces the animated 
effect of Greek poetry where the "Merope" of 
Matthew Arnold, though severely classic in form, im- 



viii THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

parts an impression of corpse-like coldness. The 
recent revival of interest in ancient Greek tragedies 
is largely due to the fact that these are presented in 
the excellent rimed versions of Dr. Gilbert Murray. 

The verse of the present play, while rife in rime, 
is otherwise intentionally "flat" in tone-color, espe- 
cially in the more dramatic scenes, since the action 
has been held by the author to be more important 
than poetic form, and the "reader's attention" has 
therefore been concentrated upon it in obedience to 
the dictum of Herbert Spencer. In every respect lan- 
guage has been subordinated to that expression of 
ideas which is produced by emotional gesture and 
facial expression. The text is thus virtually a libretto 
of the dance, taking the latter term in the inclusive 
sense of all choric movements. 

The action of the play, in its aesthetic aspect, is 
Hellenic in a modified form, being a physical inter- 
pretation of the Greek spirit according to the system 
of Francois Delsarte, which, because of the non-es- 
sential mystical claims made for it by its originator, 
and the unintelligent application of it by many of his 
disciples, has fallen somewhat into disrepute. Never- 
theless this is capable of high development, and seems 
to be the only system of bodily expression of emotion 
by which the puerile ballet may be exalted into a 
really high art-form. At least it is a coherent phi- 
losophy of expression, and of this the choric art is 
sadly in need. For example, few dancers understand, 
except instinctively, the natural relation between 
motion and pose, namely, that the latter should never 
stand by itself, but always be preceded by action — 



PREFACE ix 

the more energetic the better. I have seen an enter- 
tainment in which a woman, who had previously 
demonstrated her ability as a dancer by most artistic 
renditions of the violent movements of a nautch-girl, 
appeared in a succession of poses with the least pos- 
sible action between them. The entertainment was 
naturally a failure, and the shallow critics explained 
this by saying that the public was * ' unappreciative 
of high art," desiring only dancing of the violent, 
"vulgar" sort. 

The so-called choruses of the present play are 
essentially ballets, full of action, entertaining in itself, 
but, it is hoped, much more highly pleasing because 
of the symbolism involved. The poses, which in every 
instance are cases of arrested motion, have the same 
character. Since the latter are reproductions of 
classic statues which are meaningless to many people 
because these do not possess sufficient imagination to 
conceive of the action with its underlying thought and 
emotion leading up to the pose presented, the play, 
it is hoped by the author, will be recognized by 
teachers to possess interpretative value in the field of 
art education. 

Pictures of the statues referred to in the matter of 
poses are all to be found in Bulfinch's "Age of 
Fable," and most of them in Harper's "Classical 
Dictionary, ' ' not to speak of specific works on classi- 
cal art in the reference department of every well 
equipped public library. 



THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 



Persons of the Play 



Principal Characters 

Odysseus . . . King of Ithaca 

telemachus . . . Son of Odysseus 
phemius ... A blind minstrel 

penelope . . . Queen of Odysseus 
eurycleia . . . Nurse of Odysseus 

eurynome . . . The house-mistress 

Maidens of Penelope (the chorus) 



ADRASTE 


Leader 


DAPHNE 


ALCANDRE 




DYMAS 


ALCIPPE 




EURYMEDUSA 


ARETE 




IANTHE 


CHLORIS 




PERSE 


CLYTIE 




PHYLO 



and others, since the number of the Chorus may be 
indefinitely extended. 

In Pantomime 

Athene, the goddess, as Iphthime, sister of 
Penelope. 

morpheus, as precentor of Penelope's dream. 

[3] 



THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 



In Visions 

odysseus 



Companions of Odysseus 

EURYLOCHUS 
POLITES 

THE LOTUS EATERS 

Polyphemus, the Cyclops. 
CIRCE, the enchantress. 
hermes, herald of the gods. 

Souls in Hades 
teiresias, the Theban seer. 
anticleia, mother of Odysseus. 

THE SIRENS 

calypso, the goddess of the isle Ortygia. 
ino, a sea-nymph. 
nausicaa, princess of Phaeacia. 
alcinous, king of Phaeacia. 
Athene, patron goddess of Odysseus. 
argos, the old hound of Odysseus. 

SAILORS, CYCLOPES, SPIRITS, MAIDENS, and 
COURTIERS. 



PERSONS OF THE PLAY 5 

SCENE 

The outer court of the Palace of Odysseus in Ithaca, 
supposed to be on an elevation facing the sea. High 
steps lead up to the pillared porch of the palace. Be- 
tween the two central pillars are seen the open doors, 
leading to the central Banquet Hall. On the right of 
the porch is the entrance to the Chamber of Penelope. 
On the left of the porch is the entrance to the Armory. 
In the center of the court is an altar, which serves not 
only for worship of the gods, but also as a support for 
the actors in various statue-poses. 

TIME 

The evening of one day, and the morning of the next. 



Argument 

THE plot presented is the denouement of the 
Odyssey of Homer, the return of Odysseus to 
Ithaca after an absence of twenty years, the last ten 
of which he has spent in wandering homeward after 
the fall of Troy. He is supposed to be dead, and 
Penelope, his queen, is sought in marriage by a horde 
of princely suitors who fill her palace and waste her 
substance. She has thus far contrived to delay the 
choice of a husband forced on her, by weaving by day 
a shroud for old Laertes, Odysseus' father, who is still 
living, and unweaving it by night. This subterfuge 
is no longer available, and her decision must be made 
on the morrow. She appears on the scene, interrupt- 
ing the song of Phemius, the blind minstrel, telling of 
the " pitiful return of the Achaeans from Troy." 
Eurycleia, the old nurse of Odysseus, enters from the 
Banquet Hall, and the Maidens of Penelope from the 
side doors. They perform the choruses, "The Pass- 
age of the Banquet Hall," descriptive of the sottish- 
ness of the suitors, and "The Weaving," descriptive 
of Penelope's labors. Penelope dismisses her maidens, 
and beseeches the gods to give her assurance whether 
Odysseus be alive or dead. This they grant in the 
form of visions of him in his wanderings, the last 
visions showing him landed in the guise of a beggar 
on the shore of Ithaca. 

[7] 



8 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

She awakens comforted and prepares for the home- 
coming of her lord. Taking Eurycleia, the old nurse 
of Odysseus, into her confidence, she bids her divert 
the maidens with ancient stories calculated to imbue 
them with patriotism, while she gets ready arms and 
armor for Odysseus. Led by Eurycleia, the maidens 
perform the chorus, "The Hunting of the Boar," in 
which is recounted a youthful exploit of Odysseus in 
which he came near to losing his life, being wounded 
by an infuriated boar. Eurycleia makes the story 
symbolic of the ravage of Ithaca by the suitors, and 
the coming rescue by Odysseus; and Penelope, return- 
ing, inspires the maidens with loyal zeal by showing 
them what part women can play in crises, such as 
the one approaching, by giving spiritual assistance 
to the men. 

As their patriotic fervor is at its height, Telemachus 
enters from the Banquet Hall with Odysseus, who is 
disguised in a beggar's cloak. Penelope, instructed 
by the vision, recognizes him, and impulsively starts 
toward him with a cry on her lips, but, being res- 
trained by his look of warning, artfully applies her 
actions and words to Telemachus. The prince re- 
proves her, directing her to attend to the needs of the 
guest, whom he represents to be a companion of 
Odysseus. Odysseus refuses Penelope's attentions, 
but accepts those of Eurycleia, and departs with the 
old nurse to the queen's chamber. 

Telemachus is brooding over some insult that has 
happened in the Banquet Hall, and, to lift up his 
spirit, Penelope orders her maidens to perform a 
choric dance representing the foot-race of Hippo- 



ARGUMENT 9 

menes and Atalanta, the part of the former being 
taken by Telemachus, and the part of the latter by one 
of the maidens. Telemachus applies the moral of the 
story, strife ending in love, as an omen of happy 
conclusion of present troubles, and dismisses the 
maidens. Alone with his mother he informs her of 
what she has already divined, that the guest is Odys- 
seus himself, as he had discovered by secretly observ- 
ing the stranger's actions. 

He tells her that, disclosing himself to his father, 
they had entered the Banquet Hall to test the temper 
of the suitors, and were despitefully used, and that 
Odysseus was now resolved upon full and speedy 
vengeance with the bow. 

Still awaiting Odysseus' return from the queen's 
chamber, Penelope summons her maidens and orders 
them to perform the Archer's Chorus, imitating the 
bowmen at Troy. Eurycleia enters in the midst of the 
dance, and bids it cease. She discloses that the 
stranger guest is Odysseus, discovered by her through 
the scar made in his youth by the wild boar's tusk. 
Odysseus enters clothed in armor, over which, how- 
ever, he wears the beggar's cloak. The maidens greet 
him, and in their name Eurycleia promises their 
spiritual assistance. Under her leadership they re- 
present in choric dance "The Origin of the Bow," 
which is a graphic narrative of the slaying of the 
Snake, the symbol of evil, by the Arrow, the symbol of 
Nemesis. 

Odysseus relates the legend of Apollo slaying the 
Python in this connection, ending with the story of 
the establishment of the Pythian Games in commem- 



10 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

oration of the deed. Telemachus and the Maidens 
enact in pantomime the athletic games, taking poses 
of various Greek statues. At the close they perform 
a chorus, "The Vengeance of the Bow," in which the 
slaying of Niobe's children by Apollo and Diana 
is represented, and the various poses of the "Niobe 
group' ' of sculptures are taken. 

Odysseus and Telemachus approach the altar and 
invoke various gods for success in their coming 
battle. They then throw back the doors of the Ban- 
quet Hall, and, rushing within, engage in the 
Slaughter of the Suitors. Penelope, standing on the 
porch, describes the action to the maidens in the 
court below, who reflect it in their emotive movements 
and expressions. 

The play ends with Phemius emerging on the porch 
and completing his opening pitiful song with a joyous 
ending; Odysseus and Telemachus reappearing vic- 
torious from the contest in the Banquet Hall; and the 
maidens in the court below waving palm branches in 
a Dance of Triumph. 



Act I 

The Despair of Penelope 

Evening; there is a full moon. 

Revelry of the suitors within the Banquet Hall. 
Through the open door of the Hall Phemius comes 
forward, and, standing on the porch, sings to the ac- 
companiment of his harp: 

SONG 

The Pitiful Return of the Acileans 

"And his song was of the pitiful return of the 
Achaeans that Pallas Athene laid on them as they came 
back from Troy." 

PHEMIUS 

HO for the homeward bound, 
Aias! Already thine ears 
Catch in the joy of the sound 
Omen of welcoming cheers; 

Ay, but ever thy folk 

Greet thee, the godhead defied, 

Hurling the lightning stroke, 
Layeth thee low in thy pride. 

[ii] 



12 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Wo for thy coming home, 
Great Agamemnon, king! 

Over the flying foam 

Swiftly the white sails wing, 

Bearing thee on to thy goal, 

The Treason within thy gates — 

Love in her eyes, in her soul 

Death, by the doom of the Fates ! 

Oh for thy sweet return, 

Dear Odysseus, lord! 
Heavy the hearts are that yearn, 

Eyes are aweary that ward 



"Now as the renowned minstrel was singing to the 
wooers . . . from her upper chamber the daughter of 
Icarius, wise Penelope, caught the glorious strain and 
went down the high stairs from her room. . . . Then 
she fell a-weeping and spake" (appearing at top of 
palace steps at right, and breaking in upon the pitiful 
song) : 

PENELOPE 

Cruel, Phemius, cruel and inhuman! 

minstrel dear, the piteous strain give o'er. 
For never wo as this was laid on woman, 

So mighty grows my longing evermore 
For his dear head, whose fame by friend and foeman 

Is noised from windy Troy to Argos' shore. 

Phemius withdraws to the Banquet Hall. Penelope 
descends the steps to the side of the altar and 
communes with herself: 



THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 13 

Ten weary years, my boy my sole defender, 
Have I, to balk the suitor train abhorred, 

Matched with a woman's wile my spindle slender 
Against the rude enforcement of the sword. 

Now fails my heart, and with a foe so tender 
I may not strive; I die without my lord. 

Day-long there rises from my blood-stained valleys 
The bellowed terror of the boding steer; 

And night-long in my lust-polluted palace 
The riot of the lords afflicts mine ear; 

And, day and night enmeshed by their malice, 
I see the fatal hour of doom draw near. 

A few more days, and not a kid remaineth 
To flesh the insatiate hunger of the steel; 

A few more nights, and wasteful revel draineth 
The wine-jar last to lose the ancient seal; 

Then, ere yon orb unto a crescent waneth, 
The rage of thwarted passion shall I feel. 

But little then will serve this light deceiving, 
The fruitless labor of the barren loom, 

The weary web, the weaving and unweaving; 
Yet courage, heart, Odysseus' craft assume; 

Better to break a-work than waste a-grieving, 
Still with Laertes' shroud delay thy doom. 

Then come, my maidens, softly, softly treading, 
Till safe beneath the stars ye fear no wrong; 

Come bearing distaffs in your hands, and threading 
The flaxen twist, the while ye steal along; 



14 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

And, for the guidance of my fancy, wedding 
The warp of woven steps and woof of song. 

The Maidens of Penelope, bearing distaffs and 
strands of flax, enter right and left, in single files, 
moving to slow music. The right file is led by Eury- 
nome, the left by Adraste. 

CHORUS 
The Passage op the Banquet Hall 

eurynome 

Hist! 

ADRASTE 

Hush, maidens all! 

EURYNOME 

Silence in chambers — 

Eurycleia appears suddenly from the Banquet 
Hall in the center in great agitation. 

EURYCLEIA 

U; 

Over the house of Odysseus, quiet. 
Heavy with wine, 
Weary with riot, 
Suitor and server 



THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 15 

Slumber like swine. 

Wo for the blot on the palace's name! 

At, di, the house 's shame ! 

MAIDENS 

A'i, the shame! 

EURYCLEIA 

Like as a swallow, 

Eaves-seeking, estrayed 

The lintels within 

Of shrined Apollo, 

Stricken with dread, 

Circles to win 

Out of the hollow 

Of dim, silent things 

Unto the joy of the wide air's dominions; 

Yet swift as her wings 

Havenward hurtle, 

Ay, ever she swings, 

On terror-pulsed pinions 

That pause not nor falter, 

Backward in flight, 

Her eyes quick dartle: 

They see the gray altar: 
The bones gleam white 
Through garlands still green 
And half-charred embers; 
They see, and the sight 
No mortal has seen, 



16 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Or, seeing, remembers, 

Since death is his doom — 

They see by the light 

Of the sun-flooded portal, 

Self-shapen from gloom, 

Beautiful, bright, 

And towering in glory and grandeur and might, 

The godhead immortal! 

So I, in error 

Birdlike, darting 

The suitors among 

Drunken in hall, 

Backward in terror 

A breathing space starting, 

Forward flung 

Swift through them all, 

As senseless they slumbered like cattle in stall; 

Yet brief as I lingered, 

With anguish sharp 

The shame and the wrong 

Were graven deep 

Into my soul: 

There Phemius fingered, 

Nerveless, his harp 

As though in mid-song 

O'ertaken by sleep; 

Cheek to board, lip to bowl, 

His locks deep stained 

In the pooled gore 

Of dark lees of wine, 

Eurymachus lay like a victim supine. 



THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 17 

Then, ere I had gained 

The farther door, 

Lordly, divine, 

Imperious, tall, 

Antinoiis rose in the midst of the hall 

From his seat on the throne; 

And forth from his face 

Clear cut as in stone, 

His eyes' soft langour, 

His lips' curling grace, 

The deity shone, 

For the finger of Fate sets its seal on its own; 

And nameless anger, 

And hope without name 

Smote through my soul and thrilled through my 

frame, 
Ai, ai, the house's shame! 

MAIDENS 

Ai, the shame. 

Penelope, wringing her hands, walks away from the 
maidens to the side of the court. 

EURYNOME 

Cease for our queen's sake, Eurycleia dear, 
Thy raven croakings of the house's shame! 

For these ring ever in her troubled ear 
And wake vain sorrow. Equally I blame 

Thy cuckoo calls of spring in winter drear; 
Why weave within the meshes of her brain 
Strands of a baseless hope to be unwrought again ? 



18 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Our task is fairer, maidens, for we feign 
In endless windings, endless trickery 

Whereby our lady's craft and cunning gain 
Respite from wrong, comforl in constancy, 

And solace for the ever gnawing pain, 
The smoldering llame thai in her bosom burns 
Which will not die until our lord returns. 

CHORUS 
The Weaving 

STROPHE 

(Eurynome and half of the maidens) 

Weaving a-weaving, 
What arc ye weaving 
Maidens all? 

ANTISTROPHE 

(Adraste and the other maiden*) 

Weaving a-weaving, 

A shroud arc we weaving. 

Shroud and a pall. 

STROPHE 

Weaving a-weaving, 

Strange sliroud arc ye weaving 

And lordly attire 

In cloth of gold. 



THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 1!) 



ANTINTKorill.; 



Yea, we are are weaving 
A shroud for the living, 
Odysseus' sire, 
The gardener old. 



STROPHE 



Weaving a-weaving, 
Why needeth the living 
( l-arment so grim? 



ANTISTROPHB 



Weaving a-weaving, 

For youth is he grieving; 
His senses grow dim. 



STROPHE 



But fair is the mourning 
And rich the adorning 

To grieve for the past. 



ANTISTROPHE 



Ay, but to hoping 

Through blindness and groping, 

Day dawns at last. 



STRUT! IK 



No more he diseerneth 
The blooms that unfold, 



20 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

And ever he yearneth 
For smell of the mold ; 
No more for him breaketh 
The sun-bright morn, 
No more he awaketh 
To scent of the thorn; 
What means this derision 
To age-clouded eyes — 
How shall to his vision 
Promise arise? 



ANTI STROPHE 

His eyes toward the even 
Age ever turns 
Where fair in the heaven 
Hesperus burns: 
Hesper the herald 
Who brings to their rest 
Sheep to the sheep-fold, 
Babe to the breast;* 
Who gives to the sightless 
Faith stronger than sight, 
Light to the lightless, 
Hope in the night; 
For Hesper will gather 
What Eos hath strown : 
The son to the father, 
The prince to his own! 

►These four lines are a translation of a fragment of Sappho. 



THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 21 

EPODE 

(All) 

So we are weaving, 

Weaving, a-weaving! 

In mystical blending 

An endless deceiving, 

An endless believing, 

A garment of guile and of hope never ending, 

Weaving, a-weaving, 

SONG 

The Dead Gardener 

chloris 

Oh what shall we wreathe for a border fair 

In the good old gardener's shroud: 
The blooms that blazon their beauty rare, 
Or the shy little blossoms that hardly dare 

To lift up their heads in a crowd? 

For the stately lily and queenly rose 

He watered and trellised well, 
Yet he loved the tiniest flower that grows, 
And only the heel-trodden daisy knows 

Where the dew of his tear-drop fell! 

EPODE 

(All) 

Wreathing, a-wreathing, 
In fairest designing, 



22 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Ivy and helichryse wreathing and twining, 
Shape we the border 
In rhythmic order, 

The golden bloom and the green leaves combin- 
ing; 
And, to and fro 
As we come and go, 
Here and there a flower we strow, 
The swarthy blossom of lettered wo, 
A'i, di, crying 
For Hyacinthus dying 
When it was stained with the purple flow 
That ebbed in gentle breathing 
Forth from his body rare. 
So let us form our wreathing, 
Our wreathing, our wreathing, 
Of somber blooms and fair! 



During the Epode the Maidens lay aside their 
distaffs, and, taking ivy sprays and flowers from their 
bosoms, scatter these about the court and on the altar. 



PENELOPE 

Give o'er the dance Eurynome, give o'er 
The joyful dance my maidens all, for I, 

Wearied with mighty yearning evermore, 
And fain, for lack of my dear lord, to die, 

Love not its meshed measures as of yore. 

Give o'er the dance, my maidens dear, the joyful 
dance give o'er. 



THE DESPAIR OF PENELOPE 23 

Lay by the distaffs, maidens all, lay by 

The garlands gay and twists of yellow twine, 

And cease the song of happy revelry, 
For very heavy is this heart of mine, 

And all its music tuned to a sigh. 

Lay by the distaffs, maidens all, the flaxen twine 
lay by. 

While Penelope is speaking, the maidens, taking up 
their distaffs, retire, right and left, by pairs. 

Come, maidens, tread the solemn dance divine, 

In joyless measures suited to my wo. 
Let trailing wreaths of sacrifice be thine, 

Swayed in soft cadence, sorrowful and slow, 
And hung devoted on Athene's shrine. 
Come, tread the dance, my maidens all, the solemn 
dance divine. 

The maidens re-enter with long green sprays. 

Bow, maidens, at Athene's shrine, bow low; 

Before the mighty godhead bend the knee, 
And pray her in Odysseus' name to show 

A token of her graciousness to me, 
;That truly of my lord's dear life I know. 
Bow low before Athene's shrine, my maidens all, bow 
low. 

PANTOMINE 

The Invocation 

At the close the maidens retire, two by two, right 
and left, leaving Penelope alone. 



24 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 



PENELOPE 

Peace-bearing night, whose truce I trouble nightly, 
Bring rest from longing with the homing dove. 

O Wind of Night, that landward lifteth lightly 
The flapping sail, O beacon star above 

The low-hung mists of even burning brightly, 
Draw homeward to my heart the man I love! 

Moon, that viewest in thy three-fold vision 
All things (hat in the heavens high are done, 

On the broad earth, in darkling fields Elysian, 
To whom (he secrets of the searching sun 

And subtle sea are bared, aid my decision; 
Bring me true tidings of my faithful one! 

O Earth, and thou, Earth Mother, dear Demeter, 
Who for thy daughter troubled gods and men 

Till Dis resigned, for her dark hiding sweeter, 
His stolen flow T er — oh, by that rapture when 

Thou with glad day and greening earth did greet her, 
Give o'er my dear one to these arms again! 

Kneeling before the altar. 

Athene, child of Zeus, his aegis o'er thee, 
Girt with his wisdom, maiden weariless, 

If ever thine Odysseus burnt before thee 

His choicest kine, look on his queen's distress. 

Unto her weary eyes grant, I implore thee, 
A vision of his loving faithfulness! 

Sinks in slumber on steps at right of altar. 



Interlude 

The Visions of Penelope 

Darkness. Morpheus enters on the left in ghostly 
attire. lie speaks : 

VTOW the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, made a 
phantom, and fashioned it after the likeness of a 
woman, Iphthime, daughter of great-hearted Icarius, 
and she sent it to the house of divine Odysseus to 
bid Penelope amid her sorrow to cease from her weep- 
ing and lamentation. So the phantom. . . . stood 
above her head and spake unto her, saying: 

Enter Iphthime. Pantomime between Iphthime and 
Penelope, as Morpheus continues : 

"Sleepest thou, Penelope, stricken at heart? Take 
courage and be not so sorely afraid. For lo! such a 
friend as all men pray to stand by them, for that she 
hath the power, Pallas Athene pitieth thee in thy 
sorrow, and hath sent me forth to speak to thee." 

Then wise Penelope made her answer as she si um- 
bered very softly at the gate of dreams: 

' ' If thou art indeed a god, and hast heard the word 
of a god, come, I pray thee, and tell me tidings con- 
cerning that ill-fated man, whether perchance he is 
yet alive and sees the light of sun, or hath already 
died, and is a dweller in the house of Hades." 

[25] 



26 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Ami the « 1 1 1 1 1 phantom answered her and Baid: 
''Concerning him 1 will not tell thee all the tale, but 
thine own eyea Bhall behold many «>r the perils he hath 
passed^ striving to win ins own life and the return of 
ins company, and thine own ears shall hear him re 
count ins adventures. 

lpJithimc OQStS iiict'nst- mi llw idhir, mid tu tht 
s»u>L<- ap/ifttr tltt'sc risions, irhicli <r/v drscriht'd nt 
tilt- worth of Ody880U8 by Mtn-pht'iis : 

THE LOTUS EATERS 

For nine whole days was 1 borne Prom Troy by nun 
on. winds over the teeming deep; i>ui on the tenth day 

we set Pool fa the land of the loins enters, who eat a 
flowery food. So we stepped ashore, ;md si rais.'ht way 

my company look their midday meal by the swift 
ships. And to ns came the kindly people o\' the land, 
bearing the Pruil <>\' the loins, which they offered as 
to eat. Fearing the strange \\hh\, Eurylochus, my 
captain, and 1 alone forbore to partake of it. And 
when the meal was ended, and I called upon the 
company to return io the ship and Pare forward to 
Hellas, oni\ Eurylochus arose with me, Por whosoever 

doth ea1 i^' the honey sweet fruit <>f the lotus hath 
no other wish than to ahtde in that land with its kindly 

ft. Ik, ever feeding ow the lotus and forgetting the home 
ward way. Therefore Eurylochus and l were eon 

shamed lo pull them to their feet ami to hale them 
baofe to the ship with buffeting, for they went weep 
ins; and sore as.ainst their will. 



THE VISIONS Ol* 1 I'UNELOPE 27 

THE OTOLOPS 

Thence we sailed onward to the Land of the 
Cyclopes. a froward and a lawless folk. Bidding 
Eurylochus to remain on the ship with half the 
company, I waded ashore with the rest of* the com- 
rades, carrying with us two skins of* the wine of [lios 
as a drink' offering. Wandering along the strand we 
came upon a greal cave opening on the sea, with a 
sheepfold, walled by huge stones, before it. Entering 

the Cavern we found therein baskets laden with 
cheeses, and kids and lambkins in pens waiting the 
return of their dams from the pastures. My 
company besought me to lake the cheeses and yean- 
lings and to sail away over the salt sea water. 

llowheit I hearkened not (and Car better would it 
have been), but wailed to see the owner himself, and 

whether he wonld give me gifts as a stranger's due. 

A fire smoldered in the cave, and we mended it into a 

blaze, and made :i burnt offering of a kid, where- 
of we did eat, and of the eheeses also. At dusk the 

bleating Hock told us of the return of the shepherd, 

and anon he filled flu; cave's mouth with his vast 
bulk, Cor he was a monstrous thing, and fashioned 
marvellously, since he had but a single eye, and that 
was placed in his forehead's center, beneath one 

shaggy eyebrow that spanned his brow from ear to 
ear. He bare a grievous weight of dry wood against 
supper time, which he c;ist with a great din inside the 
cave. Amid (he clutter we fled in great fear to the 
dark recesses of (he cavern, but to none avail, for, 
after leading his flocks into tin? cave for the milking, 



28 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

and closing the entrance with a vast doorstone, he 
replenished the fire, and by its light beheld us cower- 
ing. 

" Strangers, who are ye?" he called. '.'On some 
trading enterprise, or at adventure do ye rove, even 
as sea-robbers over the brine? — for at hazard of their 
own lives thej^ wander, bringing bale to alien men." 

So spake he, but as for us our hearts were broken 
for terror of the deep voice and monstrous shape ; yet 
despite all I answered: "Lo, we are Achaeans, 
driven out of our course by evil winds on our return 
from Troy, that great city which our mighty chief 
Agamemnon hath sacked, destroying many people. 
Blown hither by chance, we have come as suppliants 
to thee, the lord of the island, so that, mayhap, thou 
wilt give us the stranger's due. Have regard to the 
gods, I pray thee, for Zeus is the avenger of sup- 
pliants and sojourners." 

So I spake beseechingly, but he answered grimly 
out of his pitiless heart : ' ' Thou art witless, stranger, 
or thou hast come from afar, who biddest me to fear 
the gods, for verily the Cyclopes are better men than 
they. Nor would I, to shun the enmity of Zeus, spare 
thee or thy company unless my spirit bade me. But 
tell me, where didst thou stay thy well-wrought ship 
on thy coming? Was it at the far end of the island, 
or hard by?" 

And I, to save the company not yet in his clutches, 
answered with words of guile: "As for my ship, 
Poseidon, lord of the sea, brake it in pieces on the 
headland hard by, and it sank utterly, we being able 
to win the shore only with our dripping garments 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 29 

and two skins of most precious wine, our share in the 
sack of the palace of Priam, king of Troy. This we 
beg you to accept as the due from strangers to the 
lord of the land." 

But, either mindless of the gift (or, indeed, wotting 
not what wine might be), and no longer withheld by 
fear of vengeance at the hand of our comrades, he 
answered me not a word out of his pitiless heart, but 
sprang up and, laying his hands upon two of us, 
lifted them on high and dashed them, as they had been 
whelps, to the earth, so that their brains flowed forth 
on the ground. Then he made ready his supper. . . . 

We wept and raised our hands to Zeus, beholding 
the cruel deeds, and were at our wits' end. 

But, after the Cyclops had filled his huge maw with 
human flesh, I took counsel in my heart, and went 
f orward bearing a skin of wine, and said : ' ' Cyclops, 
take wine after thy feast of man's meat, that thou 
mayest know what manner of drink this is that we 
brought thee as an offering, if haply thou mightest 
take pity on us and send us on our way home. ' ' 

So he grasped the skin, and drank therefrom, 
slowly at first, but with growing delight at the sweet 
wine, so that he gulped it down in great draughts 
till not a drop remained. Then he asked for the second 
skin, saying: "Give it me again of thy grace, that 
I may grant thee a stranger's gift. The juice of the 
grape I know, for often do I eat the ripe clusters, 
but this is the gods' own nectar." 

So I bare to him the second wine-skin, and he 
drained it also, and anon sank to the ground with 
nerveless limbs. 



30 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Seeing that the wine had got about the wits of the 
Cyclops, I spake to him with soft words: " Cyclops, 
thou askedst my renowned name, and I will declare it 
unto thee, and do thou grant me a stranger's gift as 
ithou hast promised. 'Neman' is my name — so all 
my fellows call me." 

Straightway he answered me out of his pitiless 
heart : " ' Noman ' will I eat last of his fellows : that 
shall be thy gift." 

Therewith he sank backwards and fell with face 
upturned, and sleep, that conquers all men, overcame 
him. Then I summoned my comrades, and we took the 
giant's club, and, hacking with our swords, shaped it 
to a point, which we put in the fire till it glowed 
terribly. Then my comrades seized the mighty club 
and, lifting it on end, thrust the burning point into 
the eye of the Cyclops, while I stood astride of his 
head and turned the club around as a ship's carpen- 
ter bores a beam with a drill. 

And the Cyclops raised a great and terrible cry, 
and we fled back in fear while he plucked forth from 
his eye the hissing bloody brand, and cast it from 
him. Then he called with loud voice on his fellow 
Cyclopes, who dwelt about him in the sea-caves. 
Gathering round the cave door they asked what ailed 
him that he disturbed their slumbers. 

"What hath so distressed thee, Polyphemus? Thy 
flocks are safe, and surely no man slayeth thee by 
force or craft. ' ' 

And strong Polyphemus spake to them again from 
out the cave: "My friends, Noman is slaying me by 
guile, nor at all by craft." 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 31 

Then they laughed him to scorn as a witless man, 
and returned to their beds, and ray heart within me 
laughed also to see how my cunning had beguiled 
them. 

But Polyphemus, groaning in pain, groped with 
his hands, and lifted away the stone from the door of 
the cave, and sat in the entry with arms outstretched 
to catch us if we went forth with the flock — so wit- 
less, methinks, did he hope to find me. 

But I counseled my fellows to bind together the 
rams of the flock by threes, and bade each man cling 
to the middle one of the three, so that they should 
safely pass by the Cyclops. And thus we returned to 
the ship with many fat and goodly fleeced sheep. 

CIRCE 

Thence we sailed onward glad as men saved from 
death, albeit we had lost dear companions. And we 
came to the isle Aeaean, where dwelt Circe of the 
braided tresses, an awful goddess of mortal speech, 
who was a sorceress. Dividing my company into two 
bands, we chose by lot which should go to entreat the 
ruler of the land for the stranger's due, and which 
should stay by the ship. To Eurylochus it fell to lead 
his men to the palace. In the forest glades they found 
the halls of Circe builded of polished stone. And all 
around the palace wolves and lions were roaming, yet 
they did not set on my men, but lo, they ramped about 
them and fawned on them, wagging their long tails, 
for they were men who had been bewitched with un- 
canny drugs. But my companions were affrighted 



32 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

when fchey saw the strange and terrible creatures. So 
they stood at the outer gate until they heard 
Circe singing within in a sweet voice as she fared to 
and fro before a great web, imperishable, full of grace 
and splendour. Wiled by her song, Polites called to 
her, and straightway she came forth and opened the 
shining doors and bade them in. Only Eurylochus 
tarried behind watching at the gate, for he guessed 
that I here was some treason. So Circe set Polites and 
the rest on high seats, and made them a mess of cheese 
and barley meal, and gave them in a great cup yellow 
honey and Pramnian wine, wherewith she secretly 
mixed harmful drugs. Now when they had all drunk 
o\' the cup, Circe smote them with a wand, and they 
were changed in form to swine, though their minds 
abode even as of old. So they wept when she penned 
them in styes and flung to them bitter acorns, and 
mast, and fruit of the cornel tree whereon swine do 
batten. 

Now Eurylochus came back to the black ship a-w r eep- 
ing with tidings of his fellows, and of their unseemly 
doom. And 1 cast about my shoulders my silver- 
studded sword, a great blade of bronze, and slung my 
bow about me, and bade him lead me again by the way 
he came. But, catching me with both hands and by 
my knees, he besought me not to go to my doom. 
"For well I know thou shalt thyself return no more, 
nor bring anyone of all our fellowship; nay, let us 
flee the swifter with those that be here, for even yet 
we may escape the evil day. " 

But I answered him saying: "Eurylochus, abide 
for thy part by the black hollow ship; but I will go 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 33 

forth, for a strong constraint is upon mo." 

Willi that I went up from the Bea-shore. But lo, 
in my Paring through the Baored glades, Eermes, of 
the winged wand, met me, in the likeness <>r a young 
man with the first down <>n his lip, the time when 
youth is most gracious. So he clasped my hand, and 
hailed me: "Ah, hapless man, whither away all alone 
through the wolds, thou that knowest not this evil 
country? Thy company yonder is penned in the halls 

Of Circe, in I lie guise of swine in filthy si raw abid- 
ing. Is il. in hope lo Tree I hem I hat I lion eomest .? Nay, 

methinks thou shall, never return, but remain with the 
others. Come, (hen, I will bring deliverance. Lo, 
hike this herb of virtue — moly, the ^ r o<ls call it, lor it 
is unknown to mortal eyes, growing in secret places. 

If, will save thee from I he enchantment of Circe. " 

Then Hermes departed to Olympus, and I came with 
high heart lo the house ol' the enchantress. J called 
aloud at the portals, and she presently came forth 

and Wade me enter. So she Led me in, and set me on 

a goodly Carven chair, with studs of silver. And she 

made me a potion in a. golden cup that I might drink, 

and she also put a charm therein in I he evil counsel 
of her heart. Now when she had given if me, and I 
had drunk if Off, she smote me with her wand and 
commanded me: "do thy way now to I he stye, couch 
thee there with the rest of thy company. M 

So spake she, hut I drew my sharp sword from my 
thigh and sprang upon Circe as one eager to slay her. 

But with a great cry she slipped under, and clasped 
my knees, and bewailing herself spake lo me wing6d 
words : 



34 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

' ' Who art thou of the sons of men ? I marvel to see 
how thou nasi drunk of this charm and wast nowise 
subdued. Thou hast, methinks, a mind within thee 
that may not be enchanted. Verily thou art Odysseus, 
ready at need, whom he of the winded wand full oft 
hath told me was to come hither on his way from 
Troy in his swift black ship. Nay, come, put up thy 
sword and let us meet in love and trust." 

So spake she, but 1 answered her, saying: "Nay, 
Circe, how canst thou bid me be gentle to thee, who 
hast turned my company into swine, and wouldsl have 
done so even to me? I will not let thee go, goddess, 
until thou hast sworn a mighty oath that thou wilt free 
my company, and plan nought else of mischief to 
our hurt." 

So Circe swore by the awful Styx, the oath binding 
on the immortals, that she would do all even as I 
willed, and with wand in hand she passed with me 
through the hall, and opened the doors of the stye, and 
drove my companions forth in (he shape of swine. 
And she passed among them anointing them witli 
another charm. Then, waving her wand above them, 
she commanded that they resume their former state. 
And lo, from the limbs the bristles dropped away, and 
they became men again, younger than before they 
were, and goodlier to behold. And they all knew me 
again, and each one took my hands, and wistful was 
their lament, so that even the cruel goddess was moved 
with compassion. 

So she entreated me and my companions kindly; 
yea, she even imparted to me a secret known only to 
the gods, that if I would come safely home I must 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 35 

first pass through the dark halls of Hades and learn 
there from the shade of Teiresias, the blind sooth- 
sayer, the way and measure of my path over the teem- 
ing deep. 

ODYSSEUS IN HADES 

So our black ship came to the limits of the world, to 
the deep-flowing Oceanus, which washes the land of 
the Cimmerians, where never shines the sun, but al- 
ways deadly night is outspread over miserable mortals. 
There I found, as Circe had told me, the grim entrance 
to Hades. And when I had made supplication and 
poured a libation to the lordly races of the dead, and 
offered to Dis, the lord of Hades, a ram and a black 
ewe, the departed spirits gathered from out Erebus 
around the blood of the sacrifice. Brides and youths 
unwed, and old men of many and evil days there were, 
and men slain in battle with their bloody mail about 
them. And these many ghosts flocked about the 
trench with a wondrous cry, and pale fear gat hold on 
me. So I drew the sharp sword from my thigh, and 
sat there, suffering not the strengthless heads to draw 
nigh to the blood ere I had word of Teiresias. Anon 
came the soul of Theban Teiresias with a golden 
sceptre in his hand, and I suffered him to drink of the 
dark blood, after which he foretold the sufferings I 
was yet to endure. "Late shalt thou return in evil 
plight, with the loss of all thy company, on board the 
ship of strangers, and thou shalt find sorrows in thy 
house, even proud men that devour thy living, while 
they woo thy godlike wife. And even when thou hast 
slain the wooers in thy halls thou shalt not rest, but 



36 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

must travel afar with an oar on thy shoulder till thou 
come to a country where men shall call it a winnow- 
ing fan, because they know naught of the sea. There 
fasten the oar into the earth, and sacrifice to thine 
enemy, Poseidon, lord of the sea, and he shall at last 
be pacified. And from the sea shall thine own death 
come, the gentlest death that may be, which shall end 
thee foredone with smooth old age, and thy folk shall 
dwell happily around thee." 

Then the soul of my mother dead, Anticleia, whom I 
left alive when I departed for sacred Troy, drew 
nigh and drank the dark blood, whereupon she knew 
me, and bewailing herself spake to me winged words : 
"Dear child, how didst thou once come beneath the 
darkness, thou that art a living man? Art thou come 
hither in thy long wanderings from Troy, or hast thou 
reached Ithaca, and seen thy wife in thy halls?" 

And I answered her and said : ' ' Not yet have I set 
foot on mine own country, but have been wandering 
evermore in affliction from the day that I went with 
goodly Agamemnon to Troy. But come, declare me: 
What doom overcame thee with death ? Was it a slow 
disease or did Artemis slay thee with her sudden 
shafts? And tell me of my father and son; doth my 
honour yet abide with them, or hath another already 
taken it, while they say that I shall come home no 
more? And tell me of my wedded wife, doth she abide 
with her son and keep all secure, or hath she already 
wedded the best of the Achaeans?" 

And my lady mother answered-: "Yea, verily, she 
abideth with steadfast spirit in thy halls, and wearily 
for her the nights wane always, and the days, in shed- 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 37 

ding of tears. And the fair honour that is thine no 
man hath taken; and Telemachus sits at peace on his 
demesne. But thy father abides in the field, sorrow- 
ing and nursing his mighty grief, for long desire of 
thy return, and old age withal comes heavy upon him. 
Yea, and even so did I perish. It was not the archer 
goddess who slew me, nor did any sickness come upon 
me; it was my sore longing for thee that reft me of 
life." 

So spake she, and I would fain have embraced my 
mother dead. Thrice I sprang towards her, and was 
minded to embrace her; thrice she flitted from my 
hands as a shadow, or even as a dream, and grief 
waxed ever the sharper at my heart. 

THE SIRENS 

Then our good ship came to the island of the 
Sirens twain. And I stopped with wax the ears of all 
my men that they should not hear the beguiling song 
of these awful goddesses. But because I would listen 
to the sweet song that none other mortal had heard and 
not followed to his doom, I bade my company bind 
me, hand and foot, upright to the mast-head. And 
when they had done this, they sat down on the benches 
and smote the grey sea-water with their long oars. 
Then, when the ship was within the sound of a man's 
shout from the land, we fleeing lightly on our way, 
the Sirens espied the swift ship, and raised their clear- 
toned song: 

"Hither, come hither, renowned Odysseus, great 
glory of the Achaeans, here stay thy barque, that thou 



38 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

mayest listen to the voice of us twain. For none hath 
ever driven by this way in his black ship till he hath 
heard from our lips the voice sweet as the honey- 
comb, and hath had joy thereof and gone on his way 
the wiser. For lo, we know all things, all the travail 
that in wide Troy-land the Argives and Trojans bare 
by the gods' design, yea, and we know all that shall 
hereafter be on the fruitful earth." 

So spake they uttering a sweet voice, and my heart 
was fain to listen, and I bade my company unbind me, 
nodding at them with a frown, but they bent to their 
oars and rowed on. 

SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS 

We soon came to the fair islands where fed the 
goodly kine, broad of brow, of Helios Hyperion. And 
against my will, for Teiresias had warned me of the 
evils that should befall the deed, my men, being a 
hungered, slaughtered the sacred kine of the Sun-God. 
And he, who overseeth and overheareth all things, 
when we embarked sent a shrilling storm from the 
West, which snapped our mast and swept all our gear 
away. And the mast in falling all-to brake the skull 
of our pilot. Then Zeus thundered, and struck the 
ship with his bolt, so that it was filled with choking 
sulphur, whereat my company leaped into the sea. 
Like sea-gulls they were borne round the black ship 
upon the billows, and the god reft them of returning. 

So I was left alone on the ship, since I only had 
taken no part in the slaughter of the sacred kine. 
And the tempest ceased, yet I joyed not thereat ; since 
in its stead a fair south wind sprang up which bore 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 39 

me on toward the dread cliff of Scylla and the whirl- 
ing pool of Charybdis, feared of all mariners. Lean- 
ing mightily on the helm, I 'scaped the ragged rock, 
but only to find my ship sucked down into the circl- 
ing surge. But, ere it sank, I leaped on high and 
grasped a fig-tree growing on the cliff, whereto I 
clung like a bat until the broken hull was vomited 
forth again. And then I let myself drop down hands 
and feet, and plunged heavily in the midst of the 
shattered wreck. Grasping the keel timber, I climbed 
upon it, and rowed hard with my hands until I came 
safely out of the swirl of waters into the calm sea. 

CALYPSO 

Thence for nine days was I borne, and on the tenth 
night the gods brought me nigh to the isle of Or- 
tygia, where dwells Calypso of the braided tresses, 
an awful goddess of mortal speech, who took me in 
and entreated me kindly. 

There dwelt I many days consuming my heart in 
longing for my home and native land, despite the lov- 
ing regard of the goddess who would have kept me 
forever as her consort, for she had the power to confer 
immortality on whom she would. And when at last 
she saw that my misery came not to on end, but grew 
ever greater until I was like to perish of grief, to me 
she came, as I sat on the strand gazing toward Ithaca 
over the wide sea, and spake winged words : "Lovest 
thou so thy Penelope? Truly indeed must she be 
worthy of thee, and I a goddess would be not a whit 
less great of soul than a mortal woman. Behold, I 



40 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

grant thee <liy wish to get thee home l<> thine own dear 
country even in this hour.*' 

So she gave me a great axe of bronze, double-edged, 
and she Led me where tall trees grew, alder and poplar, 
and Hi*' pine that reaohetb to heaven. And when 
I had tolled a score of the lordly lives, she gave me a 
polished adze, and augers, and I built me ;i raft with 
a mast, for which Calypso wove and shaped a sail. 
And the goddess placed on hoard a skin of dark wine 

and a skin of dear wafer, and corn, loo, in a wallet. 

And, instructing me hi the guidance of the stars, she 

helped me with her divine hands to launch the great 
rail, and made a warm and gentle wind to Mow, which 
bOTC me forward on my way. 

1NO 

Now when 1 had come nigh the goodly land ^\' the 

PhaeacianS, mine enemy divine, Poseidon, lord of the 
sea, saw me, as he returned from sojourning among 

the blameless Ethiopians, ami was wroth at whatso- 
ever god had opposed his Cell purpose toward me. 
Grasping his trident, be roused all Storms Of nil man 

ner of winds, and he shrouded in clouds I he land and 
sea. And a great wave smote upon my raft, so that 
I Lost the helm from my hand and was swept henealh 
the dark walers. Nor could 1 rise speedily from be- 
neath the rush of the mighty wave, for the garments 

hung heavy which Calypso had given me. But at last 
1 came up, Bpueing forth the bitter salt water, and 
Bprang forward in the dark wave after the raft, ami 
Clutched it, and sal in the midst (hereof, avoiding the 
issues of death. And the great wave swept the raft 



TIIU VISIONS OV I'UNELOPE II 

hither and thither along the si, renin, lor the storm 
had reft it of helm and mast and sail. 

But the daughter <>r Cadmus marked me, [no, of 
the Pair ankles, who, though in time past a in;ii<l<'M of 
mortal speech, <li<l now in the depths of the salt sea 
get proper share in worship of the gods. Taking pity 
on me m my travail, she rose, like a sea gull on the 
wing, Prom i ho depth of the mere, and siii, upon the 
well hound raft, : i n < I Bpake, Baying: "Hapless one, 
wherefore is Poseidon, shaker of the earth, so wroth 
wil.h Mice? Yd, shall ho noi, make a Bull end of thee 

Tor all his desire. Do even ;is I tell I lice. ( !;isl, oil" 
these garments, and leave Hie raft to drift before Un- 
winds, but do thou swim with thine hands .'md win a 
rooting on the coast of the Phaeaoians, whither it is 
decreed thou shall, escape. Mere, take this veil im- 
mortal and wind ii, about thy breast; so is there uo 
fear that thou perish. But when thou hast laid hold 
of the mainland with thy hands, Loose the veil Prom off 
thee, and oast it into the wine dark deep Par Prom the 
land, and thyself turn away." 

Willi that the goddess gave the veil, mid dived haelc 

into (ho heaving deep, like a sea-gull; and the dark 

wave closed over her. And I, too, easling off my gar 

ments and winding the veil about me, plunged into 

the sea. 

NAIINI(!AA 

A great wave bore me to the rugged shore, ndown 

whose rooks a brook Pell roaming into the sea. And 

all my hones would have been broken had not Athene 

put a thoughl into my heart. I sprang forward of 



42 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

,the wave with all my strength, and grasped a rock, and 
clung thereto with hands and knees, till the surge beat 
a gainst my back, sorely crushing me, but not loosing 
my grasp. And, ere it returned, I clambered upon 
the rock and crawled to the green shore beyond. 

And when my breath returned, I loosed from my 
bruised limbs the sodden veil of the sea-goddess, and 
hurled it with all the strength left in me far out upon 
the billow. And I turned ere it alighted, and fell 
upon the earth, and kissed it, the grain-giver, and gave 
thanks to the kindly goddess who had braved the 
wrath of her overlord and saved me from the sea. 

Then, because I was naked, I dragged my weary 
limbs into a thick coppice near a pool in the brook, 
and I fell into slumber, long and deep. 

Now Nausicaa, princess of that land, came with 
her maidens to (he pool to wasli the soiled linen of the 
palace. And, when they had cleansed all the stains, 
they spread the cloths on the green bank to dry, and 
fell to playing at ball in the fair meadow beyond. 
And the goddess Athene put it in the heart of the 
princess to throw the ball at one of her company, so 
that it fell into the pool where the current was pour- 
ing over the rocks into the sea. And all the maidens 
raised a piercing cry to see the end of their pleasure, 
so that I awoke. Glad was I to hear the sound of 
human voices, and, breaking a leafy bough from the 
thick wood, and holding it athwart my body to hide 
my nakedness, I stepped from the coppice fain to 
draw nigh to the fair-tressed maidens. But I was 
terrible in their eyes, being marred with the salt sea, 
and they fled cowering. And the daughter of 



TPIE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 43 

Aleinoiis alone stood firm, for Athene gave her courage 
of heart and took away all trembling from her limbs. 
So she halted and stood over against me. 

And I thought within myself that it were better to 
stand apart and beseech her with smooth words lest 
the maiden should be angered with me if I touched her 
knees in supplication. So I spake a sweet and cun- 
ning word : ' ' I supplicate thee, queen, whether thou 
art a goddess or a mortal! If thou art indeed of them 
that keep the wide heaven, to Artemis would I liken 
thee for beauty and stature and shapeliness; but if 
thou art of the daughters of earth, thrice blessed are 
thy father and lady mother and thy brethern. Sure- 
ly their souls glow with gladness each time they see 
thee entering the dance, so fair a flower of maidens! 
But he is of heart blessed beyond all others who shall 
prevail with gifts of wooing, and lead thee to his home. 
Yesterday I escaped after many perils from the wine- 
dark deep to this shore, where I know no man. Naked, 
and wounded sore by the waves, I beseech thee to give 
me a wrap from thy store of linen, and show me the 
way to the town where I may obtain succour. And 
may the gods grant thee all thy heart's desire: a 
noble husband and a home, and a mind at one with his 
— a good gift, for there is nothing nobler than when 
man and wife are of one mind in a house, a great joy 
to their friends, though their own hearts know it 
best." 

Then Nausicaa of the white arms answered me, and 
said: "Stranger, forasmuch as thou seemest no evil 
man nor foolish — and it is Zeus that giveth or with- 
holdeth weal as he will — now that thou hast come to 



44 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

our land, thou shalt not lack raiment, or aught else 
that is the due of a hapless suppliant. And I will 
show thee the town, and name the name of the people : 
the Phaeacians hold this city and land, and I am the 
daughter of Alcinoiis, great of heart, on whom all the 
might and welfare of the Phaeacians depend. ' ' 

Then she called to her maidens, and bade them fetch 
me raiment and olive-oil for the anointing of my 
bruises. And when they had brought them, I bade 
the maidens to stand apart, while I bathed in the pool 
and anointed my body with the oil, and put on the gar- 
ment. And Athene made me great and mighty to be- 
hold, causing from my head deep curling locks to flow 
like the hyacinth flower, so that, when I stepped forth 
among the maidens, the princess marvelled at me, and 
said to her maidens : ' ' Would that such an one might 
be called my husband, and that it might please him 
here to abide! But come, give the stranger meat and 
drink. ' ' 

And when I was refreshed, the princess brought me 
to the goodly house of her father, where I abode many 
days honoured as I had been a god who came in the 
guise of a stranger guest. 

Day after day we spent in hunting the wild beasts 
and in many games, but ever did I turn my head to 
the splendour of the sun, being fain to hasten its set- 
ting. And when my longing to return to my native 
land became too strong to be overcome, Alcinoiis gave 
me lordly gifts, and sent me on my way to Ithaca in 
a tall ship with many rowers. 

And Nausicaa, dowered with beauty by the gods, 
bade me farewell, saying sadly : ' ' When thou comest 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 45 

into thine own country, noble Odysseus, bethink thee 
at times, I pray thee, of the maid who met thee kindly 
when thou earnest in thy need to the Phaeacian shore. ' ' 
And I answered her from the fullness of my heart : 
"Nausicaa, daughter of great-hearted Alcinoiis, if 
Zeus grant me to reach my home, there shall I worship 
thee as a goddess all my days forevermore, for thou 
has given me my life. ' ' 

THE LANDING OF ODYSSEUS AT ITHACA 

There is in the land of Ithaca a certain haven of 
Phorcys. Now at the harbour's head is a long-leaved 
olive tree, and hard by is a pleasant cave and shadowy, 
sacred to the nymphs that are called the Naiads. 
Thither did the Phaeacian seamen let drive their ship ; 
and now the vessel in full course ran ashore, half her 
keel's length high. Howbeit, I was asleep. So they 
alighted from the benched ship upon the land, and 
first they lifted me from out the hollow ship, all as I 
was in a sheet of linen and the bright rug, and laid 
me yet heavy with slumber on the sand. And then 
they brought forth the goods which great-hearted 
Alcinoiis had given me on my homeward way, and 
set them in hiding within an olive copse a little aside 
from the strand lest some wayfaring man, before I 
awakened, should come and spoil them. Then the sea- 
men departed to fair Phaeacia with gently moving 
oars. 

THE TRANSFORMATION OF ODYSSEUS 

Then Athene came nigh me in the guise of a herds- 
man, a young man most delicate, such as are the 



46 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

sons of kings. And she bad a well-wrought mantle 
that Eel] In two folds about her shoulders, and a jav- 
elin in her hand. 

And she did (oiieh me sleeping with her spear, so 
thai 1 started up. And 1 sp:ike to the stranger winded 
words, vet did not utter (lie truth, hut wrested my 
Words Into guile. Well 1 WOt that I was in Ithaca, for 

looking about I saw the eave and harbour, dear to my 

boyhood. So I dissembled and said: " Friend, since 
fchou art the lirsl I have chanced on in this land, 
hail to thee! Tell me truly what land is this, what 

men dwell therein?" 

And the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, answered: 
"Thou art witless, stranger, or thou art come from 
afar, it" indeed thou askesf of this land; since the 
deeds of its prince Odysseus have made it lamed 

even unto the Ear land of Troy." 

And I was glad at the words of the herdsman, yet 
still dissembled. "Of Ithaca have I heard tell, even 
in broad Crete, whence J have been outlawed for slay- 
ing (though it was by sad mishap) the dear son of 
[domeneus, king of that country. 1 lied to a Phoeni- 
cian ship in the harbour about to sail for Carthage. 
Driven by a storm we landed on these strange shores, 
where we rested our worn bodies with sweet sleep. 
Fearing, perchance, that 1 was bringing on them the 
anger of the gods, they have stolen away while I 
remained in slumber, Look! then 1 is their ship in 
th«> oiling!" 

So 1 spake, and the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, 
smiled, and caressed me with her hand; and straight- 
way she changed to the semblance o\' a woman, fair 



THE VISIONS OF PENELOPE 17 

and tall. And uttering her voice she Bpake to me 
winged words: 

"Crafty must be be who would outdo thee in all 
manner of guile, even if it were a pod encountered 
thee! So thou wast not even in thine own country to 
cease from thy sleights and knavish words, which thou 
lovest from the bottom <>i" thy heart! Yd, thou knew- 
est not me, Pallas A.thene, who am always by thee and 
guard thee in :ill thy adventures. And now I am conic 
hither to contrive a plot, with thee. For thou hast 
still to endure much sorrow, submitting thee to the 

despite of men. In thine absence many powerful 

lords sue for Hie hand of thy wil'e, saying Mini, thou 

Jirt de;id. But she remains true to thee, and awaits 

thy coming, deceiving Hie wooers with a guile worthy 

of thee her lmsl>;ind. Come, let rne disguise thee, Hint 
none shall know I hee while I lion wailesf in the lint of 

(faithful Eumaeus, the swineherd, until I summon to 
thine aid thy dear son Telemachus." 
Therewith Aihene touched me with her wand. My 

fair flesh she withered on my supple limhs, and made 
Waste my yellow hair from off my head, and over all 

my limhs she east the skin of .-in old man, and dimmed 

my tWO eyes, erewhile so fair. And she changed my 
raiment to a vile wrap and a, doublet, torn garments 
rind filthy, stained Willi foul smoke. And over all 

she clad me with the great ha Id hide of ,-i swiff stag, 
and she gave me a siaff and a mean tattered scrip, and 
a cord I herewith to hang it. 

A RGOS 
Ami when I came to the Swineherd's hut, lo ! a 



48 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

hound raised up his head from where he lay, and 
pricked his ears — Argos, the watch-dog which of old 
myself had bred. Now was his master gone and he 
lay out in the deep dung of mules and kine full of 
vermin. Yet even now when he saw me, standing by 
in the beggar's guise as I was, he wagged his tail and 
dropped both his ears, but nearer to me he had not 
the strength to draw. 

I looked aside and wiped away a tear. But upon 
Argos came the fate of black death even in the hour 
that he beheld me, his dear master, again in the 
twentieth year. 



Act II 

The Slaughter of the Suitors 

As the last vision is fading away Penelope starts 
up from her trance, and holds out her hands toward 
the place where Odysseus had appeared. , The morning 
light increases. 

PENELOPE 

ODYSSEUS, my lord, 'tis I — oh stay, 
Odysseus! — Penelope, who calls, 
Thy loving wife ! Oh, let us flee away 

Together from the horror of these halls ! 
Ah, no, 'tis but another fantasy — 
Again the cruel gods are mocking me. 

Again they mock — yet hold, my heart, be still ! 

Never before have all my broken dreams 
Been threaded through with his unfaltering will — 

My lord's brave spirit! Vision true it seems, 
As if his soul had bended heaven and hell 
The tidings of his coming home to tell. 

Oft have I seen him in my troubled sleep 
Upon the field of battle wounded sore, 

Or sinking in the unfathomable deep, 
Or naked cast upon a desert shore, 

Yet ne'er till now, wherever he might roam, 

So plainly coming ever nearer home. 

[49] 



50 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Home, home at last! yet oh, so worn and old! 

So weary, worn and old, and piteous poor! 
My husband, let my loving arms enfold 

Thy dear gray head, my toil-worn fingers cure 
Thy bruises, and thy tattered garments mend; 
My weak limbs walk with thine until the end. 

For I would flee out of this troubled land 
To quiet shores; surely the gods will smile 

To see us wander hand in loving hand, 
And lay aside their wrath a little while, 

Granting to us, poor beggars twain, surcease 

Of sorrow that we close our lives in peace. 

Peace? nay, not such would my Odysseus crave; 

Shame on my woman 's weakness ! Let the wife 
Be worthy of her husband, ne'er so brave 

As in disaster; let me rule my life 
By his hereafter. Well his word I know: 
li Prepare ye for my hand my spear and bow." 

Penelope claps her hands. Enter Eurynome and 
Eurycleia. 

PENELOPE 

To Eurynome: 

Go, fetch my maidens. 

EURYNOME 

With their distaffs? 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 51 

PENELOPE 

Nay; 

The time of spinning has forever passed ; 
Know that for me the inevitable day 

Has dawned — the day to choose my lord — at last, 
Yet ill it is to yield without a fight; 
So bring the maids for mimic war bedight. 

And do thou fetch with thee the mighty spear 
Odysseus left with me, when forth to Troy 

He fared ; whose sight made all his f oemen fear 
Its wielder's prowess. Haply its employ 

E 'en now with dread may chill the suitor throng. 

Go, bid thy maidens raise the hunting song. 

Exit Eurynome. 

To Eurycleia: 
My duty calls me hence. I shall prepare, 

Dear Eurycleia, for a fray more stern; 
Thou knowest well what labor is my care, 

And with me wilt conspire. Till my return 
The maidens mocking battle to prolong, 
Summon thine ancient lore of tale and song. 

Often, dear nurse, hast thou the story told 
How, ere I knew him, young Odysseus went 

To see Autolycus, his grandsire old, 

And with his uncles twain clomb the ascent 

Of high Parnassus, hunting the wild boar 

Within its brakes. Recount the tale once more. 

Exit Penelope. 



52 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Enter Eurynome in the guise of a huntress, bear- 
ing the great spear of Odysseus, with Maidens, begirt 
for the chase, and equipped with lesser spears. 

Eurynome gives the spear to Eurycleia. 

CHORUS 
The Hunting of the Boar 

EURYCLEIA 

On the mountain side 
Overlooking the meadows, 
The cornlands fair, 
The peopled shore — 
The fields of his ravage — 
Where thick boughs hide 
His gray form in shadows, 
He maketh his lair: 
The robber hoar, 
The foe of the farmer, the mighty, the savage — 

MAIDENS 

Boar, the wild boar! 

EURYCLEIA 

In silence profound 
He keepeth his watch ; 
Like red coals gleaming 
His small eyes are; 
His prickt ears catch 
The distant sound; 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 53 

He snuffeth the gale 
With scent of men streaming 
Up from the vale — 
The wild boar alert, ever ready for war! 

MAIDENS 

The boar, the boar; he is ready for war! 

EURYCLEIA 

Anon he descrieth 
Foes on his track! 
The boarhounds bay; 
Beaters are tramping 
Through thickets dense; 
A huntsman crieth 

"Halloo!" while a whistle 

Soundeth" Aback !" 

The wild boar awaiteth the fray : 

His white teeth are champing; 

His muscles tense 

Set all abristle 

His ridged chine; 
With fierce rage of battle his red eyes shine. 

MAIDENS 

Beware, beware, 

When the boar's teeth champ, 

And his fierce eyes shine! 

Take care, take care, 

When you see, as a sign 



54 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Of his rage, the ridged bristles 
Arise on his spine! 

EURYCLEIA 

The dogs ring round 
The coppice dread ; 
To enter they fear — 
Afresh burn their olden 
Scars at the sight. 
Fierce challenge they sound. 
The beaters draw near 
With timorous tread 
And clubs forward holden 
Ready for flight, 
Awaiting a spearman to lead to the fight. 

MAIDENS 

Who cometh, who cometh 
With spear keen and bright, 
Faint hearts to embolden 
With courage to fight? 

EURYCLEIA 

A youth debonair! 

Forward springing 

The beaters' line through, 

The hounds in loud cry 

Aside he spurneth, 

And faceth the wild boar's lair. 

Backward flinging 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 55 

His chlamys blue, 
He lifteth on high, 
Till bright in the sun the bronze point burneth, 
This spear, that I hardly can raise — 
Where is the man who can wield it 
In these degenerate days? 

MAIDENS 

Odysseus! him dost thou praise. 

None other could wield 

In forest or field 

The weapon thou hardly canst raise. 

EURYCLEIA 

Stir in the bushes, 
A peal of ire! 
The wild boar emergeth 
Battle to wage — 
He knoweth his peer! 
Frothed are his tushes; 
His eyes flash fire; 
His whole body surgeth 
With war's fell rage. 
He rusheth upon the spear. 
What weapon shall stay 
The furious charge of a wild boar at bay? 

MAIDENS 

The wild boar at bay! 
What man without fear 



50 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

To oppose will essay 
The fury that urgeth 
A boar to the fray ? 

EURYCLEIA 

Odysseus unfearing 

Awaiteth the charge; 

At the boar's side 

He aimeth a blow ; 

But slight is the wound, 

For tough to the spearing 

As a warrior's targe 

Is the lean beast's hide, 

And the boar, driving on at his foe, 

Beareth him down to the ground. 

MAIDENS 

Ai, di, the maddening wound! 

If the great spear fail 

The hero brave 

In the wild boar's rush, 

What might shall avail, 

What godhead save 

From the fierce beast's tush 

Odysseus borne to the ground? 

EURYCLEIA 

The raging boar 
In headlong career 
With sharp tusk rippeth 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 57 

Odysseus' knee; 

It breaketh no bone, 

But the blood runneth free. 

At sight of the gore 

Aloud cry the huntsmen in fear. 

Odysseus giveth no groan, 

But only more tightly he grippeth 

The haft of his great boar-spear. 

MAIDENS 

The man without fear! 
Though overthrown, 
Though wounded sore, 
He maketh no moan, 
But to his feet leapeth, 
And, grasping his spear, 
Again he awaiteth the boar. 

EURYCLEIA 

The wild beast, burning 

With rage and pain, 

His course sharply turning, 

Rusheth amain 

Again to the fight; 

But ready his foe is; 

Odysseus lungeth 

With his full might; 

His great spear he plungeth 

Deep in the boar's head. 

So piercing the blow is 



58 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

It reacheth the brain, 

And felleth the fierce beast dead. 

MAIDENS 

The boar f alleth dead 

Transfixed by the spear! 

Never again 

Shall he ravage the plain, 

Holding the farmers in fear. 

Hail to the hero who banished their dread, 

For deeds like this ever dear! 

EURYCLEIA 

Autolycus' sons 

Run swift to his side; 

Their garments tearing, 

They staunch at once 

The black blood's tide; 

Then, in arms upbearing 

The youth aswound, 

Still to the spear clinging, 

A chant they raise, 

Handed down from the former days, 

That healeth the huntsman's wound; 

And home they bear him with singing. 

MAIDENS 

They bear along 

The youth with song 

The blood's dark flow congealing. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 59 

Oh, who shall sound 
For our country's wound 
The ancient chant of healing? 

EURYCLEIA 

In our fair land, 

Ithaca old, 

Since the lord of it, 

Odysseus brave, 

To the war departed, 

The wild beasts raven 

In fruitful field, 

In teeming fold, 

For lack of a hand 

His spear to wield, 

For want of a wit 

His scepter to hold, 

His realm to save — 

Robbers, boar-hearted, 

Insolent, craven 

Since none their force may defy ; 

Spoilers swine-souled, 

Who make of our palace a sty. 

MAIDENS 

Ouai! 

With hearts of boars 

Our prayers they scorn ; 

They trample all day 

Our standing corn, 

Since none there is to withstay; 



GO THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

With souls of swine 
They enter our doors, 
And nightlong wallow in wine. 

EURYCLEIA 

With fields uprooted, 

His land laid waste, 

Our prince is shamed, 

Telemachus young, 

In brave heart royal, 

Though maiden his sword. 

In palace polluted 

Our queen is disgraced — 

Penelope famed 

Where 'er praise is sung 

Of wifehood loyal 

To a lost lord. 

With song alone to defend her, 

In this her day of surrender, 

Come, let us our solace afford. 

MAIDENS 

The comfort that women tender 

May give, shall her maidens afford; 

The help in our hearts we shall lend her 

In the hour she chooseth her lord. 

Mayhap our love 

At last shall prove 

A mighty shield to defend her, 

Our song a sharp sword. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 61 

SONG* 
The Woman 's Kingdom 

CHLORIS 

When the age of the soul began 
God gave the eartli to man 

To subdue it with strength and will 
According to His plan — 

And the world is a man's world still: 
A sad world, a mad world — 
It never will be a glad world 
Till time the purpose fulfil. 

To strengthen him in the strife 
God gave the man a wife 

To do what he might ask, 
To center in him her life — 
This still is the woman's task: 
A drear lot, severe lot, 
And yet withal a dear lot 
Since Love wears Service' mask. 

The land, the sea, the air 
To conquer is man's care 

With plow and keel and plane; 
Small is the woman's share, 
The home is her domain: 
A mean rule, unseen rule, 
Yet here she may as queen rule 
O'er man in Spirit's reign. 

*This may be omitted, if deemed too modern in tone. Its 
moral is that of the succeeding chorus. 



62 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

With courage does she gird 
Her lord as with a sword ; 

With helm of honor bright 
And shield of loyal word 
She arms him in her might : 
Though tearful and fearful 
At heart, with bearing cheerful 
She sends him forth to fight. 

And when man's work is done, 
His war with nature won, 

Then shall the woman shine 
Enthroned in the sun — 

Her soul of faith the shrine: 
Her spirit inherit 
The rule of earth, to share it 
With man in Love divine! 

Penelope enters in the guise of Artemis, and takes 
the spear of Odysseus from Eurycleia. 

CHORUS 

The Weapon of the Spirit 

penelope 

The soul of the spear 

Is the soul of its bearer, 

The warrior dread; 

Its strength is his strength, 

Its purpose his will; 

His spirit shines clear 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 63 

In radiant terror 
From bronze-pointed head; 
The ash-shafted length 
With his rage is a-thrill, 
The blood-lust of battle, the passion to kill. 

MAIDENS 

The spear, the spear ! 
Though dread it appear, 
'Tis the spirit behind it 
That points it with fear. 

PENELOPE 

The long, level line 
Of spearmen surges 
Like a glittering wave 
Assaulting the strand; 
Resistless in might 
The keen points shine, 
And the foemen brave, 
Though his high heart urges 
Him stoutly to stand, 
Betakes him to flight, 
And bloodless the spear is borne back from the fight. 



MAIDENS 

The spear, the spear ! 
The weapon of fear, 
Returns from the quarrel 
With point gleaming clear. 



64 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

The spear, the spear! 

It is never so dear 

As when, wreathed in laurel, 

No blood doth appear. 

PENELOPE 

A weapon strong 
Is man that the Spirit 
Hath shaped to her hand; 
Thrilled are we through 
With her purpose as flame, 
The hosts of Wrong 
Know it and fear it; 
Will gives the command, 
Hers is the due, 
Yet Strength reaps the fame, 
Or, failing, he casts upon Spirit the blame. 

MAIDENS 

We welcome the blame; 
Be Spirit 's the shame 
If she point not the weapon 
The tyrant to tame. 

PENELOPE 

The spirit of man 
Is regnant in Woman; 
Her mind is its throne, 
Her heart is the shrine 
Of its sacred fire. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 



65 



The Soul of the Clan, 
She flies on the foeman 
Protecting her own — 
A vision divine 
And portent dire 
Courage to hearten and fear to inspire. 

MAIDENS 

We burn with the fire; 
The spear of his sire 
To Telemachus give; 
We his soul would inspire. 

There is an uproar in the central hall, and 
Telemachus in princely attire enters, accompanied by 
Odysseus in the garb of a beggar. At the sight of the 
latter Penelope is dazed for a moment, and then, 
recalling the vision in which her husband appeared in 
the same guise, she starts forward as if to throw her- 
self at his feet, and cries: 

My lord! 



Odysseus frowns wamingly, and Penelope turns 
to Telemachus as if it were he whom she has addressed, 
and continues : 

My son, for thou shalt take the place 
To-day of him who was my spirit 's prop, 
Whose soul e'en now is shining in thy face, 
Come, play thy father; take this weapon — 



66 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

TELEMACHUS 

in lordly manner: 

Stop, 
Impetuous woman! though my time is near 
It has not come; give to our guest the spear, 

For, worn with wandering he hath no staff, 
A warrior old, his hand is weaponless; 

Penelope hands the spear to Odysseus. 

He is athirst; the wine-cup let him quaff. 

Penelope looks at Eurynome inquiringly, who shakes 
her head in a gesture of negation which Penelope 
sadly repeats to Telemachus. 

Bring water, then, for sore is his distress, 
Water in ewer as well as cup, to lave 
His soiled feet. He was a comrade brave 

Of great Odysseus, when the Trojan wall 
He breached with guile ; a fellow of his band 

Of bold sea-rovers, who on Ilium's fall 

Sought with stout hearts to win their native land 

Against the purpose of Poseidon fell. 

Refreshed, our guest the moving tale shall tell. 

PENELOPE 

Nay, son (if still with me some empire lies 
O'er woman's realm), I would thy charge amend: 

Let him not bare his scars to curious eyes; 
A reverent hand his bruised feet shall tend 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 67 

Within my chamber. As an honored guest, 
Yes, as my lord himself, there shall he rest. 

Eurynome comes forward to conduct Odysseus to 
Penelope* s chamber. Penelope objects: 

Not thine, housemistress, though for ready zeal 
We hold thee dear, shall be this sacred task. 

She addresses Odysseus. 

If thou wouldst deign to elder eyes reveal 
Thy limbs, let me — 

Odysseus frowns in dissent at the idea of her per- 
forming the service, and she adroitly turns the 
reference. 

— old Eurycleia ask 
Odysseus nods assent. 

To do this service, once accounted sweet 
When eve brought bedward little dusty feet. 

For when Odysseus ran a romping boy, 

Or as a youth came wounded from the chase, 

She was his nurse. Still she recounts with joy 
His features fair and lithe young body's grace; 

For, though with creeping age her eyes are dim, 

Her memory holds him clear in line and limb — 

Ay, every mark upon his body white 
Of marring mole or ridged ruddy scar. 



68 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Wearied of life, she prays but for the sight 
Of her dear master coming from the war, 
That she once more may lave his feet, and kiss 
His ancient wounds, and so may die in bliss. 

Go then, good Eurycleia, and attend 

Our guest, as if he were indeed thy lord, 

Mayhap the gods, who see us thus befriend 
The needy stranger, may their grace accord 

That other hearts be softened to entreat 

Our wanderer with charity as sweet. 

Eurycleia conducts from the scene the limping 
Odysseus who pauses to hand the spear to Penelope, 
as the occasion of addressing her a few words inaudi- 
ble to all save herself. After his departure Penelope 
addresses the house-mistress: 

And thou Eurynome, to cheer the heart 

Of my shamed son, who for his mother's sake 

Foregoes desire to play a prince's part 

And lead his folk against their spoilers, take 

Thy maidens fair, and a new dance array: 

The Race of Atalanta let them play. 

CHORUS 

The Foot Race 

eurynome 

What slender youth 
His body bareth 
To enter the race, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 69 

The arduous toil 

Of the circling track? 

Strong is he, in sooth, 

Though the aspect he weareth, 

In beardless face, 

In hairless breast, 

In smooth-muscled back, 

Still of a boy. 

Telemachus advances, and throwing off his cloak, 
stands nude, save for his sandals and a loin-cloth. He 
assumes the pose of "Mercury Belvedere." 

MAIDENS 

Eia, iavoil 

We hail with joy 

And welcome warm 

The runner whose form 

Hath the strength of a man 

And the grace of a boy — 

Eia, iavoil 

EURYNOME 

To prepare for the task 
He taketh the flask 
That athletes aye bear, 
And with oil doth anoint 
Each muscle and joint 
With sedulous care; 
Then he kneadeth the skin 
Till the oil is rubbed in, 



70 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

And his body gleameth 

With the healthy glow 

Of the blood's quickened flow, 

Till a young god he seemeth 

In beauty rare — 

Hermes the fair, 

The herald slender, 

Swift in the race. 

Telemachus takes from the folds of his cloaks an 
oil-flask and anoints his body, kneading it thereafter. 
At the close he assumes the pose of the brontfe Mercury 
in the Naples gallery. 

MAIDENS 

lo, to! 

The athlete tender, 

In form and in face 

Lithe Hermes appeareth. 

Immortal grace 

As a nimbus he weareth; 

Like to a god doth he show. 

lol 

EURYNOME 

With strigil of steel, 

Curved to fit 

The muscles ' slope, 

He scrapeth the oil 

From each supple limb. 

New strength doth he feel; 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 71 

His face is alit 
With victory's hope; 
For the course's toil 
With purpose grim 
He testeth each thew. 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 

Telemachus goes to his cloak, and replacing therein 
the oil-flask, takes from it a strigil, with which he 
scrapes his body, at the end assuming the pose of 
"The Athlete with the Strigil." Beplacing the strigil 
in the cloak, he then exercises the muscles of his limbs, 
breast, and back, ending with the pose of the "Farnese 
Hercules." He then practises the running stride, end- 
ing with the pose of the "Flying Mercury." 

EURYNOME 

Who is it advanceth 

To vie with the youth 

In the contest of speed? 

From the cheek's brown tan 

From the strength displayed 

As forward she pranceth, 

Ye would call her, in sooth, 

A rival to heed, 

Fit match for a man, 

This muscled maid; 

An athlete true! 



72 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Dymas hastens forward in a running stride, in the 
guise of Atalanta. Her robe is begirt for running. 
She assumes the pose of "Diana in the Vatican." 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 

As the champion good 

Of the hardihood 

Of our sex doth she show 

lo! 

EURYNOME 

Atalanta the swift, 

Ever victorious! 

What man will compete 

With womanhood's pride? 

Who dareth aspire 

To conquer the maid ? 

See Hippomenes smile, 

Serene, unafraid, 

Since the golden gift 

Of Cypris glorious, 

The apples sweet 

Of fond desire, 

In his hands he doth hide 

The maiden to wile. 



Telemachus takes from his cloak two golden apples 
which he holds in his hands. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 73 



MAIDENS 

No fear doth he know, 
Trusting the while 
In the gift of Cypris 
The maid to beguile. 

Bymas advances toward Telemachus. Both stand 
before the altar, and make obeisance to the goddess 
Artemis. 

EURYNOME 

Obeisance due 

To Dian they make, 

Patron divine 

To both of them dear. 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 

With Dian, we, too, 
No favor would show, 
lo! io I 

The contestants advance to the starting line and 
stand side by side. 

EURYNOME 



Their places they take 
At the starting line, 
Nor heed they our cheer, 
To their purpose true. 



74 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 



Io, eleleu! 



MAIDENS 



EURYNOME 



He is crouching to speed 

At my word, but no heed 

Taketh the may, 

Her rival scorning; 

Then One! for the warning, 

Two, Three, and away! 

MAIDENS 

Io! oel 

The contestants spring forward, Telemachus in the 
lead. 

EURYNOME 

Forward they spring ; 

The man in the lead is 

By a stride's length, 

His impulse like 

To the start of a swallow; 

As a hawk taketh wing 

Slower her speed is ; 

She saveth her strength 

Till the time to strike, 

Yet close doth she follow; 

Forth from the court do they fly. 

During this recitation the runners disappear from 
the scene at the left of the stage. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 75 

MAIDENS 

Oa, ouai! 

We cannot descry 

The course o'er the white sea sand. 

Eurynome dear, 

Climb the steps high 

And picture to us the swift race. 

From thee let us hear, 

Let us see in thy face, 

How the runners appear — 

Still are they speeding apace? 

Eurynome ascends the steps, and gazes after the 
runners. In the course of her following description 
she turns her gaze gradually from the left front of the 
stage around by the central front to the right. 



EURYNOMK 

Swift is the man, 
Hippomenes strong; 
With mighty stride 
On the maiden gaining, 
He forgeth ahead; 
She, as she began, 
Runneth along, 
In graceful glide 
Her strength restraining 
Till his shall have sped — 
The champion sly! 



76 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

MAIDENS 

Oa, ouai! 

The maiden, disdaining 

With confident pride 

Her rival, is feigning : 

Her strength doth she hide. 

EURYNOME 

Though strong yet in limb, 
Hippomenes tireth; 
His features drawn 
His failing breath show; 
But his purpose grim 
His heart anew fireth 
Ere its power hath gone, 
And, enduring the strain, 
Still on doth he go. 

MAIDENS 

Io! 

When mind takes the rein 

The body its master doth know. 

EURYNOME 

Atalanta fleet, 

Hippomenes after, 

As the stride he doth slack, 

Forward is bounding 

Like the lithe pard 

With swiftness and grace 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 77 

O'ertaking a deer. 
At the sound of her feet, 
Or her lips' low laughter, 
He glanceth back, 
Then, onward pounding, 
Though still breathing hard, 
He speedeth his pace, 
Running by will-power sheer. 

MAIDENS 

Eia! we cheer 

The heart that ne'er faileth for fear. 

EURYNOME 

Now the man hath she passed, 

The maiden swift, 

With eyes on the goal; 

But, upraising his hand, 

Doth Hippomenes cast 

A Paphian gift: 

Gleaming an apple doth roll 

Before her along the white strand, 

Till aside from the course it doth lie. 

MAIDENS 

Oa, ouail 

Fain would we the act understand: 
He letteth a fair apple fly 
Before her to bound on the sand; 
Eurynome, pray tell us why? 



78 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

EURYNOME 

The maiden observeth 
The tempting sight, 
And in her heart leapeth 
Desire uncontrolled. 
A quick turn making, 
Her stride she swerveth 
Toward the sphere bright; 
In her hand she upsweepeth 
The apple of gold, 
With joy the gift taking 
As a prize for her might, 
Before her by Artemis rolled. 

MAIDENS 

lau, iavoi! 

She taketh with joy 

As a gift from above 

The apple of love 

That too oft doth a maiden destroy. 

EURYNOME 

The apple hiding 

Her girdle within, 

To the course she returneth ; 

Though far in the lead 

Is Hippomenes striding, 

Yet trust still to win 

In her heart high burnetii ; 

She reneweth her speed. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 79 

MAIDENS 

Maiden, have heed! 

Atalanta, take care! 

The passion of greed 

Is the high gods' gin 

Wherein they ensnare 

Souls that by pride have been led into sin. 

Victory's meed 

We wish now thy rival to wear. 

EURYNOME 

The maiden, urging 

Her strength to the strain, 

Her hot blood surging 

Through every vein, 

With quickening stride 

In burst of speed 

The man hath o 'er taken, 

And side by side 

They fight for the lead. 

Now off he is shaken ! 

Once more 

She forgeth her rival before. 

The goal they draw nigh — 

MAIDENS 

Oa, ouai! 
In sorrow we cry, 
Hippomenes vanquished 
To victory nigh! 



80 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 



EURYNOME 



Nay, get for him bays, 
Palm branches bring. 

Adraste goes out. 

Once more his hand doth he raise, 

And hurleth, like stone from a sling, 

In front of the maiden fleet 

The apple of gold 

That still he doth hold; 

It boundeth along at her feet. 

The contestants enter the scene from the right, 
Dymas running in front, with the apple bounding 
along by her side. 

Again desire, 

Passion impure, 

Her heart doth fire, 

The apple to catch 

At her feet that doth roll. 

The golden lure 

She stoopeth to snatch — 

And Hippomenes crosseth the goal! 

The contestants take the position of Atalanta and 
Hippomenes in Poynter's painting of the race. In 
the meantime Adraste has returned with palm-leaves 
and laurels, which she distributes to the Maidens, 
Waving the palm leaves they cry : 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 81 

MAIDENS 

lo, evoi! 

We shout in our joy, 

Hippomenes winneth the race! 

Yet we cry eleleu! 

For our champion too — 

Our sex hath not suffered disgrace, 

So let both in the victory share. 

With wreath of bay 

His head we adorn, 

And to Cypris we pray 

That the apples, borne 

In the bosom fair 

Of the maiden chaste, 

True Love shall inspire 

Till Greed's desire 

And the passion of Pride are effaced. 

Telemachus and Dymas kneel before the altar, the 
latter placing the apples in her bosom. Eurynome 
crowns Telemachus with a wreath of laurel. The 
Maidens then in pantomime invoke Aphrodite. 

SONG 

Ode to Aphrodite 

By Sappho 

PERSE 

Throned in splendor, immortal one, and mighty 
Daughter of Zeus, wile-weaving Aphrodite, 



82 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Let not thy wrath with terror's pangs affray me, 
Nor weariness o'erweigh me. 

Come to me now, if ever in the olden 
Days thou didst hearken afar, and from the golden 
Halls of thy father come with all speeding 
Unto my pleading. 

Down through mid aether from heaven's highest 

regions, 
Yoking thy car, upborne by lovely legions 
Of fluttering sparrows, clouding with their pinions 
Earth's broad dominions, 

Swiftly thou earnest, and, blessed one, with smiling 
Countenance immortal my heavy heart beguiling, 
Askedst the cause of my pitiful condition — 
Why my petition? 

What most I craved in brain-bewildered yearning? 
Whom would I win, winsome in her spurning? 
"Who is the maiden, evilly requiting 
Fond love with slighting? 

"She now who flies soon shall turn pursuing, 
Cold now to love, weary thee with wooing, 
Gifts that she spurned with other gifts reclaiming 
Unto her shaming." 

Come thus again; from cruel care deliver; 
Of all that my heart wills graciously be giver — 
Greatest of gifts, thy loving self and tender 
To be my defender. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 83 

TELEMACHUS 

For the heart-cheering dance, my mother dear, 
I thank thee. May it soon an omen prove 

Of Ithaca redeemed, when song and cheer 

Shall woes supplant, and strife shall end in love. 

But now dismiss the maids for play more bold, 

For with thee would I secret converse hold 

On martial themes. 

PENELOPE 

Go then, Eurynome, 
And fit thy maidens for a sterner dance; 
The Battle of the Bowmen would we see; 
Let them as archers to the fray advance, 
Preparing us for contest grim and great 
That now I plainly see shall save the state. 

Exit Eurynome and Maidens. 

Now that none other may our secret share 
That in thine eyes already cries aloud, 

The message of thy swelling heart declare 
To me, the gladdest of all mothers proud. 

Joy conquers pain as when thy life began; 

Again I cry, "I have brought forth a man!" 
Penelope hands the spear to Telemachus. 

TELEMACHUS 

In the early watch of yester night there came 
To me, as bound in slumber deep I lay, 



84 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Athene, in her battle-garb aflame, 

And bade me instant rise, and take my way 
To the house of our good keeper of the swine, 
Eumaeus. I obeyed the dream divine, 

And sought the hut with mingled hope and dread 
Which soon were tinged with sadness, for I found 

Before the door old Argos lying dead, 

My boyhood's playmate, Father's favorite hound, 

Which ever mourned his absence. "Ah, at last," 

I sighed, ' ' for thee the days of grief are passed. 

"Athene, let this prove an omen good, 

That to myself and mother it portend 
My shamed state and her long widowhood 

And our joint sorrow near a welcome end." 
With beating heart I softly tried the door 
And slipped within, and sank upon the floor, 

And sat there breathless in the hovel's gloom 
Unnoted by the swineherd or his guest, 

The wanderer here, who stood within the room 
And told the story of the wondrous quest 

Of great Odysseus through many a land 

To win his home in safety with his band, 

Of which the stranger said he was the least, 
A common archer, who had lost his bow 

In that great storm whose rage but late has ceased, 
Which all save him had hurled to depths below. 

A well-wrought tale, yet its too perfect craft 

Wrought such fond hope within me that I laughed, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 85 

And at the sound there turned to me — my sire! 
Mother, thou startest not! 

PENELOPE 

My clever son, 
Thy father's mind in thee I much admire 

But thinkest thou thy heart could mine outrun? 
Nay, ere thou didst him in the hut divine, 
I knew his coming. Lo, of this the sign ! 

She holds up the spear. 

For ready to his hand I brought this spear, 

And with my hand its point I burnished bright; 

And bade my maids with lances light appear 
To raise our spirits to heroic height 

So that we might our cup of courage pour 

Into my lord's full soul that it run o'er. 

Then from the armory in stealth I brought 
Odysseus' mail, that, donned in youthful pride, 

He wore what time my father's court he sought 
And wooed and won me as a willing bride — 

Cuirass and greaves and helm, with cunning made 

Of brass and gold — and in my chamber laid 

The rich array, and burnished bright its sheen ; 

With them I set his great bow, waxen well, 
And quiver of long arrows, true and keen, 

And newly fledged for their mission fell. 
To none till now, save Eurycleia old, 
Leal and discreet, have I my purpose told. 



86 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

TELEMACHUS 

Athene, patron goddess of our line, 

Hath surely granted thee her prescient grace, 

Since all thine actions with the deep design 
Of wise Odysseus have run apace, 

For he hath fixed his mind this very day 

With bow and spear the suitor band to slay. 

E'en now the temper of their souls we tried, 
And found them evil all, save Phemius blind. 

Odysseus, with Eumaeus as his guide, 

Came to the feast that he perchance might find 

Pity that oft in rudest breasts hath room, 

And so might save the kindly hearts from doom. 

I went before, and, when within the hall 

There limped the beggar by the swineherd led, 

Braving the wrath my princely actions call 
From the proud suitors on my youthful head, 

I prayed them grant the needy stranger's right, 

And bade him beg from each a portion slight. 

And, as from bench to bench Odysseus passed 
With humble mien among that evil crew, 

Antinoiis at his head an ox-hoof cast, 

Saying in jest, "There, stranger, take thy due." 

Lightly Odysseus from it leaped aside, 

And, "Thee I shall repay the first," replied; 

Whereat with rage the hall grew clamorous; 
Above the din Eurymachus' voice I caught; 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 87 

•'Despicable beggar, wouldst thou threaten us? 

By whom wast thou to bait us hither brought 1 ? — 
Telemachus ? ' ' "Nay, from his sire I come 
To taste the welcome men who stayed at home 

"Give to the heroes who return from war," 
My sire replied: whereat the giant wode 

Hurled at his head a mighty earthen jar, 

Which burst against the wall. The red wine flowed 

In pools upon the floor. ' ' A guilty sign, 

Eurymachus; thy blood shall flow like wine." 

Then to my father f s side I quickly flew ; 

Odysseus upraised his godlike form 
To its full height, and back the suitors drew 

Behind the benches, whence they sent a storm 
Of bones and joints, with wine-jars in their train; 
i ' You shower on us meat and drink like rain, ' ' 

Odysseus cried, "and, in your courtesy 

Your places at the table giving o'er, 
Would burden us with hospitality; 

Such generous hosts I have not met before. 
Prince, let us hence, that we may counsel take 
For this great kindness fit return to make." 

So from the Banquet Hall into this court 
We backward drew with faces to the foe 

Resolved to repay their savage sport 
With mortal vengeance of the spear and bow. 

So let thy maids in martial rank advance 

To spur my spirit with the bowman 's dance. 



88 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Penelope claps her hands. Enter Eurynome and 
Maidens, the former bearing a lance with a red pennon, 
and the latter small bows and dainty quivers filled 
with little arrows. The Maidens are in boyish costume. 



CHORUS 

The Archers 

eurynome 

Warriors maiden 
In mimic marches 
We move to the battle 
With shout of joy. 

MAIDENS 

Evoi! evoi! 

EURYNOME 

Our hands are laden 
With tiny arches; 
Our gay quivers rattle 
With arrows toy. 

MAIDENS 

Evoi! evoi! 

The weapons men bear 
With labor and care 
In sport we employ. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 89 

EURYNOME 

As children enhancing 
Life's vigor with play, 
With shouting and dancing, 
In battle array 
Retreating, advancing, 
We figure the fray 
Of our archers at Troy. 

MAIDENS 

Evoi! evoi! 

Let us mock the fierce fray 

Of the bowmen at Troy, 

Awaiting the day 

When the world shall be mended, 

And men, their strife ended, 

Shall join with the children in play. 

Evoi! 



Enter Earycleia. 



EURYCLEIA 



Eurynome, I bid thee cease the dance. 

She addresses Penelope. 

By higher power than thine, my mistress dear, 
I charge thee stop this play, Let the light lance 

Vail its bright pennon to the mighty spear, 
The girlish arch to warrior's bow give place; 
Know, maidens, I have seen him, face to face! 



90 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

By emotive gestures and ejaculations Eurynome and 
the Maidens express questioning wonder, and Penelope 
and Telemachus similarly show consternation at what 
may be a premature disclosure of the return of 
Odysseus. Eurycleia addresses mother and son: 

Well wot ye whom I mean. When I disclose 
To all these eager ears the secret sweet 

Which close you guard against our crafty foes, 
Fear not; I know the maidens are discreet 

Nor will betray the tidings of great joy 

I bring. Know that the man returned from Troy — 

Is even Odysseus, our beloved lord ! 

Eurynome and the Maidens silently express in 
emotive gestures and expression their joy at the reve- 
lation, mingled, however, with incredulity. 

Upon his knee I have beheld the scar 
Made by the wild boar's tusk, so deeply gored 

In his young flesh that it remains to mar 
His manly form which else were blemishless — 
A blot that once I mourned, but now I bless. 

Again my master's limbs I have arrayed 
In armor of his youth, whose princely sheen 

Gleams bright as when he donned it first, the maid 
Of Sparta's court to woo and win as queen, 

Penelope, then fair as Helen famed — 

For virtue now above all women named. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 91 

Within his hand I placed the mighty bow 
Which to his yearning youth a traveller gave 

In pledge of common spirit. Long ago 
The giver met his doom — Iphitus brave, 

Whom Heracles his host in envy slew 

For deeds that he had done and yet might do. 

And so Odysseus, when he went to Troy, 
Laid by the weapon as a sacred thing, 

Memorial of sadness mixt with joy — 

That deathless love which death alone can bring — 

And on his back I girt with leathern thong 

A quiver full of arrows, keen and long. 

Then over all his beggar's cloak I threw — 

The shining mail, the arrows winged with death — 
Lo, here he comes. 

Enter Odysseus, still enveloped in the beggar's 
cloak. 

Hail him, ye maidens true, 
But only with glad eyes and bated breath, 
Dear lord, we bend obedient to thy will 
Like bows that with the archer's purpose thrill. 

All bow before Odysseus who takes his place in the 
center upon the steps with Penelope and Telemachus 
on either side. 

ky, and as weapons tried and true impart 
Sense of sure mastery to the wielding hand, 



92 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

We shall return the impulse to thy heart, 

And guide thine arm to do thy will's command. 
Dip, then, thy shafts in venom of our hate, 
And each shall fly to its doomed target straight. 

CHORUS 

The Origin of the Bow 

eurycleia 

Hermes, lover 

Of wastrels winning, 

Scamps big and little, 

Patron smiling 

Of cunning and craft, 

To us discover 

The bow's beginning, 

What herd-boy with whittle 

His idlesse whiling 

First formed arch and shaft. 

MAIDENS 

What godhead, man ever beguiling, 
Looked down on the mischief and laughed. 

1 EURYCLEIA 

Of a fir bough he formed 
The supple arch; 
A reed of the mere 
The arrow afforded; 
Cedar bark did he twist 
For the cord of his bow. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 93 

That men with it armed 
To battle would march 
Against the dread spear 
Unshielded, unsworded, 
The boy never wist, 
E'en the gods did not know. 

MAIDENS 

To the engine of war 

That strikes from afar, 

By Hermes designed, 

Only contempt was accorded. 

By none save him, 

Not Ares grim 

Nor Athene the wise, 

Was the war-bow divined 

That out of the plaything should rise 

Till over all weapons it lorded. 

EURYCLEIA 

Long as a child 

Its kindred among, 

The war-spear bright 

And lance arm-flung, 

The bow remained. 

By death undefiled, 

By blood unstained, 

For play alone was it strung. 

Yet the play was to fight, 

To conquer, to kill! — 



94 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

The passion of man, old and young, 
For power is ever his will. 

MAIDENS 

To slay, to spill 

Blood, to destroy 

Life, is man's joy. 

His pastime still 

As it was when a boy, 

And shall be until 

The spirit of woman 

His heart shall illumine 

And drive from its lair 

The beast that lurks there, 

And render our race wholly human. 

EURYCLEIA 

The small bird singing 
On the bough swinging, 
The lizard sunning 
His length on the wall; 
These were the lad's quarry, 
Now crouching, now running 
Creeping and gliding 
Through grasses tall 
His movements hiding, 
He made his foray. 

MAIDENS 

Let us mimic in dance 
The childish play: 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 95 

The stealthy advance 

Of the boy with the bow 

And blunt-headed arrow 

Stalking his prey 

That feared not the foe — 

The lizard lithe and the sparrow. 

EURYCLEIA 

From the dart weakly sped, 

The quick lizard glided 

A cranny within. 

Away the bird flew 

And, singing, derided 

The weapon new. 

The boy hung his head; 

Deep was his chagrin 

That the pert sparrow laughed 

In scorn at the craft 

On which himself he had prided. 

MAIDENS 

Boy-like, the blame 

He casts for the shame 

On the bow in whose strength he confided. 

EURYCLEIA 

With head elate 

And forkt tongue hissing 

Inveterate hate 

At our heeled race, 



96 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

A coiled snake, 

In the roadside dust 

Invited attack. 

With fear aquake 

The boy drew back 

A stride's short space; 

Then into his heart 

Came courage, new trust 

In his weapon's strength; 

And, fitting a dart, 

He drew to its length 

The bow, and shot without missing! 

MAIDENS 

Willi clubbed bow 

He kills the stunned foe, 

And home bears the coil 

As a warrior's spoil 

To his mother dear, 

Who shudders in fear, 

Yet still rewards him with kissing. 

EURYCLEIA 

What deity dread 
The daring deed 
Of the lad inspired? 
What godhead fired 
With courage his heart, 
His weak arm nerving 
To send unswerving 
The feeble dart 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 97 

At the serpent's head? 

From his seat of splendor 

The god of the sun, 

Hyperion, 

Of man defender, 

Looked down and took heed. 

He saw within 

The heart of the boy 

Man's spirit defending 

With primal joy 

The Race from its foe, 

The. serpent's seed, 

The symbol of Sin — 

A contest portending, 

The struggle with Wrong; 

And to the lad lending 

The will to win, 

His arm he made strong. 

MAIDENS 

Apollo, the glorious 

Spirit of light, 

Sent him victorious 

Home from the fight, 

Presaging the triumph of Right. 

ODYSSEUS 

Thanks, Eurycleia, for the simple tale 

That thou wast wont to tell me when, a boy, 

I leaned against thy knee, and grew, now pale 

When hissed the serpent, and now flushed with joy 



98 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

When he lay writhing. Proud was I to know 
A boy like me had made the primal bow. 

But late I heard the legend in new guise 
Perhaps more pleasing to a maiden's mind, 

For to romance the girlish fancy flies 

When childhood's wonderland is left behind; 

Her heart is by a hero never won 

If he come not in splendor of the sun. 

While in Alcinoiis' court I was a guest 

Thither there came a wandering minstrel. Young 

And godlike fair he was, with youthful zest 
For bold adventure. Enviously he sung 

Heroic deeds, to which his soul inclined 

Alas! in vain — the gods had made him blind. 

With meaner envy was my bosom stirred, 

With jealousy I own it to my shame, 
For all had hung upon my slightest word — 

Matron and maiden — ere the minstrel came 
To win them from me with his magic song. 
From morn till eve about me would they throng 

To hear such stories as a warrior rude, 
A plain, sea-faring man, could baldly tell 

Of his adventures strange by field and flood, 
True tales, pardie, since all do know full well 

Marvels a many must the sailor meet: 

Harpies with women's breasts and taloned feet, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 99 

Gorgons whom hissing serpents serve for hair, 
Witches whose potions make of man a beast, 

Fish-tailed sirens that with song ensnare 

The passing seamen on whose flesh they feast, 

Grim giants, grislier made by one lone eye: 

Wonders too great for the enlarging lie. 

But he, this boyish bard they call "the Blind," 
Made all these marvels seem but fancies fond 

Matched with the wondrous visions in his mind ; 
His soul's eye pierced into the world beyond 

The senses' ken, and, daring, did he tell 

Secrets of highest heaven and deepest hell. 

The gods, I think, for this presumption bold 
Blasted his body's sight, since even they 

The prescience of the soul may not withhold ; 
So to appease their wrath he made essay 

By flattering them most grossly in his song, 

Doing in this to mortals grievous wrong. 

Athene, bear me witness that whate 'er 

Of craft and courage lies within my heart 

To impute to thee has ever been my care; 
Yet in my deeds I claim the doer's part. 

But to the gods the fawning poet tribe 

Both mortal act and impulse must ascribe. 

Myself and all my fellow warriors brave 

This cozening bard with seeming praise maligned, 

Since the whole credit for our deeds he gave 
To gods unseen save by his subtle mind. 



100 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

'Twas they who aimed the Achaean hero's blow, 
And snatched the Trojan coward from the foe. 

So, too, the nameless heroes of our race 

Whose thought and toil its ancient triumphs won, 

With gods and demigods he did replace: 
Prometheus stole fire from the sun; 

Bacchus taught men with wine their thirst to slake; 

Apollo with the bow first quelled the snake. 

This deed of Phoebus that the poet sang 

Had that uncanny charm the serpent wields; 

The women, thrilled with the ecstatic pang 
Of terror which the sense of danger yields, 

Would flee like birds, then flutter back again. 

Would you, too, taste the sweetness of its pain? 

MAIDENS 

We fear, yet are fain 

The legend to hear 

Of the foe of our race, 

The serpent, slain 

By Phoebus Apollo, 

To maidens dear 

For beauty and grace. 

Like the cliff swallow 

Who findeth a snake 

Coiled in her nest 's hollow 

Our hearts are aquake; 

We tremble, and yet we would follow 

Each movement the Python may make. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 101 

RECITATION 

The Slaying of the Python 

From Ovid 

ODYSSEUS 

When passed the Age of Gold, that knew not gold 
Save in the flowery mintage of the mead, 

The honey dripping from the oak-tree old, 

The grain that ripened from the self-sown seed; 

After the Age of Silver, too, had flown, 

When gains were reckoned in earth's fruits alone; 

There came the Ages of the metals base, 

Gross Brass and grosser Iron, which men wrought 

To war's fell use, and evil grew apace; 

For land and goods brother with brother fought, 

And all the earth was drenched with blood and tears, 

So that the high gods fled to kindlier spheres. 

Then Zeus was wroth, and in his righteous ire 
He sent a flood to drown the evil brood; 

All were o'erwhelmed, save him, our race's sire, 
Deucalion just, and Pyrrha, mother good, 

Who dwelt alone upon Parnassus' height. 

Then, when on earth the sun again shone bright, 

Its god Apollo downward cast his eyes, 

And saw, engendered from the noisome slime, 

A spawn of horrid crawling monsters rise, 
Incarnate forms of every sin and crime 



102 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

That had possessed the word ere it was drowned; 
Chief of them all, that King of Evil crowned, 

The serpent Python, enemy of man. 

Lifting his head against the race redeemed, 
Ay, against Zeus, his foe since time began, 

His eyes with hideous fascination gleamed, 
Drawing to their destruction with strange lure 
The folk created by our parents pure. 

Uprose great Phoebus ; with one foot advanced 
He grasped his bow, and hailed his arrows keen 

Upon the snake. Within the sun they glanced 
Like beams that through the rifted clouds are seen; 

Smiting the Foe of Man in his flat head, 

Through every coil, they laid the monster dead. 

While Odysseus is describing the killing of the 
Python, Telemachus instinctively steps forward to the 
center of the stage, and takes the pose of the " Apollo 
Belvedere,*' the while the Maidens by emotive gestures 
express the fascination of horror, terminated by the 
relief of joy. 

So, in memorial of the mighty deed 
The Pythian festival the god ordained, 

The contests keen of manly strength and speed 

That the Hellenic youths have since maintained — 

The bloodless strife which links the hearts of men 

In love, to bring the Golden Age again. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 103 

PANTOMIME 
The Pythian Games 

The Maidens enact the Pythian Games, Telemachus 
taking various athletic poses of Greek statuary, such 
as the "Discus Thrower." 

ODYSSEUS 

Forbear the games; the archer's dance resume; 

One contest lies before us, ere in joy 
We celebrate the evil Python's doom. 

Nemesis' symbol once again employ: 
The far-flung arrow hurtling on the foe. 
Maidens, enact the Vengeance of the Bow. 

Eurynome and the Maidens take up their bows and 
arrows, and in pantomime illustrate the action de- 
scribed by Odysseus (who bears the great bow) in his 
following narrative, and express the emotions aroused 
thereby. In particular they assume the poses of the 
Niobe group of sculptures. 

For well I know within my mind and soul 
The day has come when our fell foes shall fall; 

Smitten by Fate, down in the dust shall roll 
Antinoiis fair, Eurymachus, yea all 

The suitors proud, presumptuous in their sin — 

The gates of Hades yawn to let them in 



104 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

In bloody shoals. So come, my tale attend, 
And learn from it that Nemesis ne'er nods: 

The story of the Theban queen's sad end, 

Slain mid her sons and daughters by the gods, 

Latona's twins, for her unholy pride. 

Listen how Niobe and her children died. 

RECITATION 

The Fate of Niobe 
From Meleager and Ovid 

ODYSSEUS 

It was upon the Phoebean Festival, 

When all the Theban folk together came, 

Each brow bedecked with leafy coronal, 

Each hand fulfilled with incense for the flame 

Upon the altar of the Heavenly Twins, 

To pray for purging of the people's sins, 

That Niobe, their beauteous mother queen, 
Proud of her stalwart sons and daughters fair, 

Cried to the crowd: "What folly this, unseen 
Beings to worship, when in beauty rare, 

Ay, greater than in sun and moon doth shine, 

My children stand before you. Pay divine 

" Honors to me then, who the brood did bear; 

Sevenfold am I the goddess Leto is, 
For she is mother to a single pair 

And fourteen perfect children crown my bliss; 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 105 

If I of some by Fortune be bereft 
Greater than Leto shall I still be left.'' 

And so the silly folk enwreathed with bays 
Her children, and to them the incense burned, 

And sang the hymn prepared for Leto's praise 
To Niobe as better by her earned, 

Latona, thus in sight of mortals shamed, 

And of the gods, with anger was inflamed, 

And, calling her children from their seats afar, 

Apollo, dazzling as his orb at noon, 
Dian, whose beauty pales the evening star, 

She said, "I, who brought forth the Sun and Moon, 
Am flouted by a mortal mother. Go, 
Visit her with the vengeance of the bow." 

Down through the air the heavenly archers sped, 
And on the Theban towers took their place. 

Before the gates a broad champaign there spread 
Whereon the city's youth with skill and grace 

Pursued their sports, the chiefest of the throng 

Niobe 's princely sons. Urging along 

His foaming steeds, Ismenos, eldest born, 
With mastering art his gilded chariot drave; 

Him the first arrow struck. With cry forlorn 
From out the car he fell, yet still he clave 

Unto the reins. The steeds with maddened bound 

His lifeless body dragged along the ground. 



106 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

His brother, then, as strong and fair of form, 
The next in birth, hearing the bow-twang loud, 

As when a boatman sees the gathering storm, 
And all his sails to make the port doth crowd, 

Gave his steeds rein the winged death to escape. 

Him the next arrow on his neck's fair nape 

Struck and felled prone. Two sons (but lads they 
were) 

Wrestled upon the green with limbs locked fast; 
One arrow pierced them through their bodies fair; 

One cry they gave, together breathed their last. 
Two elder brothers, hastening to their side, 
By arrows twain o'ertaken fell and died. 

Remained of all the brothers one alone; 

Lifting his supplicating hands to heaven, 
Witless whose hand the deadly shafts had thrown, 

1 1 Spare me, ye gods ! ' ' he cried. Last of the seven, 
Him Phoebus would have saved, but ah, the dart 
Had left the bow; it pierced him to the heart. 

The other youths fled to the town aghast 
And to the queen the woful tidings told. 

Forth to the field came Niobe running fast, 
And when she saw her dear sons' corses cold 

She knelt and kissed them o 'er and o 'er again. 

And yet her spirit, proud for all her pain, 

Defiance breathed against the goddess high 

Who well she wist had wrought the bloody deed. 
"Gloat, cruel Latona, o'er mine agony, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 107 

And full your rage upon mine anguish feed, 
But yet recall, when to their graves I follow 
My seven sons, thou hast but thine Apollo 

"And Artemis, while seven daughters still 
Remain of the fair children that I bore. 

Lo, here they come. Exult, then, an thou will, 
Richer am I than thou, my conqueror ! ' ' 

Boldly she spoke, for her excess of grief 

In her old wont of boasting found relief. 

Then, as the sisters ran with piteous cries 
Upon the field, and bent with woful mien 

Over their brothers dead, down from the skies 
There rained another storm of arrows keen, 

Which slew the mourning maidens where they stood, 

Mingling their own with their dear brothers ' blood. 

One girl sank on the corse which she bewailed; 

One died, her mother seeking to console; 
One turned to flee, and was by death assailed; 

One hid in vain beneath her ample stole; 
A fifth faced shuddering the coming blow; 
A sixth in utter terror crouched low; 

The last the mother sheltered with her form, 
"Spare me but one, my j^oungest," Niobe cried; 

But even as she spake the heart-blood warm 
Gushed o'er her bosom from the daughter's side. 

Then stirless, speechless, with her dead alone 

She stood, till grief transformed her into stone. 
* * ' * * * 

A time there was for dancing; it has passed. 



108 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

A time for ancient legends; it is gone. 
The hour for action stern has struck at last; 

The day of duty now is at its dawn. 
Come, son, and learn with me what mighty odds 
They have who fight with favor of the gods. 

Odysseus and Telemachus descend the steps of the 
palace, and stand in an attitude of worship before 
the altar. 

INVOCATION 

The Prayer to the Gods 

odysseus 

Apollo, first I pay thee honors due; 

Long have I felt thine enmity divine, 
And to the end my error shall I rue, 

My comrades ' slaughter of thy sacred kine. 
I know thou wilt forgive the old offence 
And grant me power to prove my penitence, 

For on a mission like thine own we go 
To slay the Python in our halls that lies; 

And so to thee I dedicate my bow; 

Grant that it prove a pleasing sacrifice. 

To thee this quiver, gracious Artemis, 

Its darts, like thine, devote to Nemesis. 

Poseidon, take for thine this toil-worn frame, 
For oft hath it been wreckage of the sea; 

Granting it power first to cleanse the shame 
That blots my palace — then I give it thee, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 109 

And I shall go beyond the Ocean's end 
To do thy bidding, and my sin amend. 

Athene, patron dear, my mind and heart 
To thee devoted were in days of old; 

Grant me no favors; I shall play my part; 
But to my son lend thou thy spirit bold, 

Thy wisdom great. Let his be honor higher 

Than mine — the son be hailed above the sire. 

Odysseus and Telemachus ascend the steps. They 
embrace Penelope. Odysseus suddenly kicks and 
thrusts open the valved door leading into the Banquet 
flail, and then, throwing off his cloak and drawing his 
bow, followed by Telemachus pointing forward his 
spear, he rushes within. During the ensuing scene a 
great tumult arises, with mingled shouts of anger, 
contempt and dismay. Penelope, standing on the steps 
and looking through the doors, reports to the Maidens 
the scene within the Banquet Hall, the Maidens ex- 
pressing in pantomime their emotions. 

CHORUS 

The Slaughter of the Suitors 
penelope 

In shining mail 

That his cloak had concealed, 

Our lord standeth grim, 

A god in seeming, 

Apollo divine! 



110 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

The suitors quail; 
At their foe revealed; 
Their senses swim; 
Each stareth, as dreaming, 
O'ercome with wine. 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 

On the startled view 

Of the suitors supine, 

Odysseus, gleaming 

In armor, doth shine. 

A deity dread are they deeming 

The man whom as beggar they knew. 

Eleleu! 

PENELOPE 

Antinoiis tall 

To his lips hath uplift 

A brimming chalice, 

Twy-eared, of gold 

Richly enwrought. 

He doth not recall 

His fateful gift 

To the beggar in malice, 

Nor the answer bold — 

Far from his thought 

Is death, I trow. 

MAIDENS 

E'ia, to! 

The hoof of horn 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 111 

Hurled in scorn, 
Our lord shall requite 
By right and by might, 
Repaying the blow with a blow. 

PENELOPE 

For who would dare, 
Think they in their pride, 
One man 'gainst a host, 
(What worth is the youth?) 
Beard princes great 
Gathered at board? 
For howsoe'er 
In his cause he confide, 
In his strength he boast, 
Or courage, in sooth 
He would meet black fate 
On the point of the sword! 

MAIDENS 

Oua, ouai! 

When a man doth defy 

Singly a horde 

Too oft doth he meet 

With mortal defeat; 

Zeus, save from this fate our dear lord ! 

PENELOPE 

Our lord letteth drive 
A bitter shaft 



112 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

From his bow good 
At Antinoiis smiling 
With high-raised head. 
His throat it doth rive, 
And the wine he hath quaffed 
Spurteth out with the blood, 
The food defiling 
On the table outspread. 

MAIDENS 

The dart his neck smiteth 

As the proud prince doth smile; 

The beggar requiteth 

The insult vile; 

And the haughty lord 

Lieth dead on the board 

In the hall that his deeds did defile. 

PENELOPE 

The wooers are raising 
A cry of fear; 
From their seats high 
They leap to their feet, 
On each other they call; 
Around are they gazing, 
For shield and spear, 
But none do they spy — 
Some servant discreet 
Hath hidden them all! 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 113 

The swine-herd true 
Their arms hath removed 
Out of the hall, 
Lest to his lord loved 
Harm should befall. 

PENELOPE 

Flameth each heart 

With anger vain. 

In impotent fear, 

In terror craven, 

Our lord they threaten 

With utter doom. 

''Know, stranger, thy dart 

Our leader hath slain, 

A prince without peer. 

For this shall the raven 

Upon thy flesh batten, 

The wolf shall thy marrow consume." 

MAIDENS 

With confidence clear 
The menace we hear; 
Word breaketh no bone; 
The coward alone 
At his foeman doth jeer. 

PENELOPE 

Odysseus high 
Uplifteth his head 



114 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

Clear his words ring: 
"Ye dogs, that did steal 
The house within 
Whose lord was away, 
His goods to waste, 
Know, then, it is I, 
The man ye thought dead, 
Ithaca's king, 
Returned, to deal 
Vengeance: in sin 
Your souls to slay. 
Death ye shall taste/ ' 

MAIDENS 

Jo, to! 

Death shall they know ; 

For our slaughtered kine 

And our wasted wine 

Their blood shall flow. 

Io! 

PENELOPE 

The suitors turn 

To Eurymachus strong 

In mute appeal 

To quell the foe. 

With a bone for his blade 

At our lord he leapeth. 

But Odysseus stern 

A shaft, yard-long, 

Pointed with steel, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 115 

Speedeth, and low 

The giant is laid. 

Death over him creepeth. 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 

He hath got his due; 

The promise made 

By the beggar is paid; 

Sponged out is the score; 

He lieth in gore; 

Our lord his word keepeth. 

PENELOPE 

Careless our lord is! 
On him unaware 
Amphinomus stealeth 
With trencher-knife bright 
To strike from the rear. 
But the stealthy step heard is 
By Telemachus fair. 
Quick the lad wheeleth 
And the man doth he smite 
With bronze-pointed spear. 

MAIDENS 

lo, io ! 

Now plainly we know 

The son doth inherit 

The sire's own spirit — 

'Twas Pallas that guided the blow. 



110 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

PENELOPE 

In terror sore 

Like rats in a cage 

The suitors are running 

Around the wall 

Escape to find. 

But Eumaeus shrewd 

His prudence hath proved: 

Barred is the door. 

Wild is their rage 

At the swineherd's cunning. f 

'Neath the tables they crawl, 

The benches behind. 

Only Phemius good 

Sitteth unmoved, 

No fear doth he show. 

MAIDENS 

Ao, ao! 

On the minstrel blind 

Thy mercy bestow, 

Odysseus kind, 

By him wert thou ever beloved. 

PENELOPE 

The blind bard sparing, 
His anger fierce 
On the suitors wreaking, 
Them singly he smiteth. 
His arrows long, 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 117 

Through the wooden shields tearing, 

Their bodies pierce, 

Their base hearts seeking. 

Thus he requiteth 

The shame and the wrong. 

Blow hath he rendered for blow! 

MAIDENS 

lot 

Our wrongs hath he righted, 
Our shame hath requited, 
And given us gladness for wo. 

PENELOPE 

From his high throne 

The minstrel dear 

Riseth ; with joy 

His face is agleam; 

His harp doth he smite, 

List, maids, to its tone. 

His song ringeth clear: 

Our lord come from Troy, 

The land to redeem, 

The reign restoring of Right! 

MAIDENS 

lo, eleleu! 

The poet true, 

In faith that is stronger than sight, 

With inward light 



118 THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS 

The end ever knew. 

Now let him complete 

His broken song, 

For sad hearts too sweet 

In the evil days long — 

Return of the Hero whose feet 

Shall trample the Serpent of Wrong. 

Phemius emerges from within the Banquet Hall, 
and, standing on the porch, sings to the accompani- 
ment of his harp: 

SONG 
Astra ha Redux 

PHEMIUS 

Hail, for thy sweet return 

Dear Odysseus, lord! 
Glad are the hearts that did yearn, 

Ended our eyes' weary ward; 

Sorrow is turned into joy, 

Darkness is lifted in light; 
The years since thou left us for Troy 

Are passed as a watch in the night, 

A troubled dream ere the dawn, 

Yea, as a tale that is told, 
Like to a mist have they gone 

That morning: has oceanward rolled. 



SLAUGHTER OF THE SUITORS 119 

With peace let our purposes run, 
With justice our freedom make sure, 

And gladness that rose with the sun 
Shall to his setting endure. 

Odysseus in shining armor and Telemaclius emerge 
from the Banquet Hall upon the porch of the palace. 

He comes with Telemaclius brave, 

Victorious over our foe; 
Maidens, your palm-branches wave, 

Odysseus, oa, iol 

MAIDENS 

Waving palm-branches, and repeating the former 
Dance of Triumph. 

Oa, iol 



CURTAIN 



